Prophecy Reborn
by butterfly-pieces
Summary: Sequel to The Final Prophecy. Allison is learning how to live this "new" life, "new" identity, without John but, it appears, soon, she won't have to be alone, as with John's return, there is a rebirth of another prophecy, one that involves them both in a way neither of them is prepared for...
1. Prologue

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note: **I'm not surprised that I restarted this fic; I think the reviews I'd see in my e-mail made my muse smirk in a very dangerous way. The next thing I knew, I started imagining random scenes in my head (the primary one that came up, I shall not mention, since it'll take a bit for the fic to go to that point, but wow, heart palpitations! This fanfiction is not good for my blood pressure, clearly) and the next thing I knew, this happened. This prologue actually is set before the epilogue I wrote for "The Final Prophecy" so, it's a funny way to start the sequel, but I liked how it set the tone for this fic...and everything that is soon to come.

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**Prologue**

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_Following my footsteps home_  
_ This time I'm walking alone_  
_ Trying hard to be someone_  
_ I don't even know_

**"Shadow" Maria Mena**

* * *

Lucifer opens his eyes to something he had never encountered in his lifetime - confusion.

The day of his creation - creation, because he was never born, but made - he knew what his purpose was, where he was, who his Father was and _what_ he was.

This is the first time since that moment that he feels a somewhat similar feeling - of a new life - but this is one does not involve an awareness of any kind.

He has no idea of what he is opening his eyes to.

He's lying on his side, on a somewhat damp floor where he can detect the faint smell of rain. He looks at his surroundings: a dumpster, a dark alley, a black cat staring at him from a distance - looking past him, in fact. When Lucifer turns to lie on his back, he turns his head and even in the darkness, he recognizes that face.

He looks at the sky, holds his breath and closes his eyes, smiling.

"Oh, the all merciful hypocrite. You couldn't even grant me peace." He sits up, ignoring the soreness overtaking his body as he moves. He leans his back on the wall, ignoring the critters that were just crawling behind him. "Any particular sermon you'd like to bore me with before I take my leave into this wonderful world of sin?"

Lucifer gives him a side-way glance, his features hidden by the shadows, but he can detect a hint of a smile.

After it's clear he's not getting a sermon, or any sweet words of departure, Lucifer ignores the pain that shoots through his legs and limbs as he forces himself to stand without using the wall behind him. He turns, ready to walk out of the alley, into the night.

He's testing his senses and they're all there, just as he left them. It makes him stop. Lucifer knows he's still right there, watching him.

"What game is He playing?" Lucifer turns his head, slightly, looking behind him, his gaze solemn. "Your benevolent Master uses us as sacrifice and then brings us back...for what purpose?"

There's still no answer but the figure takes a step out of the shadows; that has to count as some kind of a response. That's when Lucifer notices the cloak. Oh, the irony, he thinks. A very long time ago, their roles had been somewhat reversed.

"Very well, then. Let the games begin..."

"Lucifer." Hearing his name stops him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing. "She is waiting."

Lucifer doesn't bother turning around, he knows he's gone. He puts his hands in his pockets, smiling.

He may be capable of foolishness - stupidity beyond all reason is often the product of falling in love - but he is not foolish enough to think that this is only about Allison. He has no doubt his Father has bigger plans than that.

He honestly thought his Father would rejoice in his sacrifice; perhaps even open the gates to him, finally, after which Lucifer had already been prepared to say, "I didn't do it for You or Your hypocritical ideals. I did it for her, and to end your madness."

Of course, Lucifer likes chaos, especially when he has a hand in it, but his chaos is honest. He doesn't hide behind miracles or mysterious ways, as some say. He tortures, he deceives, he maims, all for the purpose of toying with someone, testing their limits and, ultimately, leading them into his domain. But his Father...His are methods that Lucifer doesn't exactly agree on.

After all, one grows to hate that which he is constantly competing against, and losing. If Lucifer is responsible for all evil, and yet, he did not create it, how can he ever win against the omnipotent, and sadistic, God?

Lucifer finally arrives at the alley he had been searching for - his senses are still his own and yet his body feels different somehow - and he stands before the wall, awaiting the door to emerge.

And he waits...he waits for a very long time, but the door doesn't open.

"Well, this is unexpected." He hears her voice behind him and smiles, keeping his hands in his pockets. He doesn't turn around.

"I didn't think turning over the keys would mean I'd be locked out for the remainder of my days. Really, Lilith?" He turns to face her, his boyish charm ready, "Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

The Lilith he had left in charge is not the same Lilith standing before him today. When he last saw her, granted, he had betrayed her, she was pissed, but she was glorious. Lilith had always been his playful partner in crime, his right hand and, a very long time ago, his perfect way to satisfy all of his...particular appetites…before he met Allison, of course. Now, she's wearing a suit - granted, it hugs her curves beautifully, as usual, and her femininity is not lost on him - but her wild, wavy hair is tied back into a braid - and she is showing very little skin. Heck, she is barely showing any cleavage.

"You mean a former employer, don't you?" She crosses her arms, trying her best to look as intimidating as he used to when he was upset. It's not exactly working.

Lucifer smiles, "While I find your current mood towards me endearing, do you really think if I was just a former employer that you would go out of your way to sense me outside of Hell and personally greet me at the door? I must say, you are slipping, Lilith."

That earns him a smirk, "Nice to know death hasn't changed you."

"Ah, you heard about that."

"Yes, and don't worry, I kept the details of your demise out of prying ears." This makes him curious, but he doesn't ask, knowing Lilith's outburst is about to begin. "What were you thinking, Lou?" It's been years, thousands of them, since she called him that. It used to irritate him at first, but then he allowed it, only when they were alone, and only when he had deserved it...he figures he has, all things considered. "I mean, I can figure out the why, but what were you thinking?" She holds up her hand when he opens his mouth to answer - it makes him smile. "You died. You really died."

"I wasn't aware there is more than one degree of dead."

She huffs, "I'm being serious. You ripped your heart out," he doesn't even flinch at the memory, "how are you even here?"

He smiles, "Remember Gabriel?" He licks his lips, touching his finger on his bottom lip as he recalls the memory. "The dead can always come back, as we all now."

She quirks a brow, "That is different."

"How is it different? He's an archangel, I was an archangel-perhaps a remnant of that still remained, enough to bring me back."

"You're a **fallen** arch who has developed clear delusions about what he has become and what he used to-"

"I would advise caution, Lilith, for I may have lost my place amongst you, but I have not lost myself." His eyes shine with a fire she has not seen in a while.

She clears her throat, "When Gabriel died, you took his soul. He belonged to us. When you died, I felt it. We all did, but you weren't with us, and this make some doubt your demise. You weren't in hell and considering the fact that hell didn't freeze over, I doubt you were in Heaven, so I ask you again, what happened? Where were you? How did you come back?"

"Your concern is touching, but I don't understand how knowing would help your cause, unless you want to try ritual suicide as a way to overtake heaven."

"Fine," she throws her arms up, "Don't tell me, you bloody selfish, self-righteous bastard."

Lucifer smirks, "You've been waiting a long time to say that, haven't you?"

She huffs, "You've no idea. As you're clearly committed to being uncooperative, I have nothing further to say to you and you're not welcome in hell."

Lucifer smirks, "I'm...unwelcome? That is interesting. Care to elaborate?"

She narrows her eyes, "While I was able to keep the manner of your death a secret, Mephistopheles was a bit too forthcoming about the manner in which you left us."

"Ah," he smiles in understanding. He has to smile, even though inside, he's imagining his hand around Mephistopheles' neck and squeezing until there's nothing there but dust. Loyalty is the one thing he had expected from his followers - perhaps not blind loyalty, not to the point where they did things without question, he is not his father, but for Mephistopheles to offer information that hadn't been his to offer...while understandable, to a point, is still rather vexing. "Are you trying to protect me?"

"You wish," she scoffs, but Lucifer knows there's a half-lie somewhere in that statement. "I was merely attempting to keep the regiment from killing each other. I should, out of courtesy, advise you that there are those who are unhappy with your decision, should you encounter them, I can offer you no protection."

"Do you think I would ask for your protection?"

To that, she actually smiles - her first, full smile since she's seen him. "No, of course not."

"Before you delude yourself," that halts her smile, "into thinking I've come here to fight your battles, or fight you. I was going to ask a favor, but in light of recent news, that task might prove to be more complicated than I first thought. I need an identity, a mortal identity."

Lilith's hand goes over her mouth as she tries to muffle her laughter. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Twice." She smirks, placing her hands behind her back. "A wise man once taught me, everything has a price."

He smiles, remembering his own words, "Name your price."

"A favor to be called on at any time that it is needed." She extends her hand towards him.

He looks at it, but doesn't take it - not yet. Yes, everything has a price, but is it a price he'll be willing to pay? Probably not. He can either take the risk or try to walk over the minefield of what used to be his domain, to find someone who might still be loyal to him and could grant him the favor. That could take time.

"I have one condition."

She quirks a brow, but does not take back her hand, "This ought to be interesting."

"Allison. She cannot be involved in whatever favor you ask of me." He reaches for her hand and takes it. Her grip is tight, a little too tight, and he feels the burn of it - oh, she's adjusting to her current position just fine.

"That sounds reasonable. Lucifer, you have my word that I will not request Allison's services, or presence, from you - this will just be me, asking something of** you**." She smiles, sounding more like herself by the minute. "Which brings me to my next question," she takes a step towards him, then another, until their noses are almost touching. "You haven't asked me."

"How did it feel to be naked before your subjects?"

Her eyes widened, "How did you-"

"Fail safe," he smirks, "In the event someone attempted to take my throne, I wasn't going to make it easy."

"But I didn't take it, you," she huffs, "never mind, I will not have this discussion with you. You haven't asked me where Allison is, which makes me wonder if you even want to know."

His eyes are no longer playful, but dark. "I had been toying with the possibility of being prudent, for once."

"After everything that happened, do you really think you can stay away?" She leans closer, presses her cheek against his, and whispers in his ear, "I was always faithful to you, Lucifer. Loyal. I didn't always do what I was told, but I always did what you needed me to do, what I thought you needed. I took care of her. I gave her a new life. She has someone watching over her, from a distance, just a lowly demon, no one quite high profile, and completely faithful to you."

He pretends to be unaffected and unimpressed by her loyalty, "How is she?"

"She's Allison," she leans back, crossing her arms, "I put her in Texas. I figured you would appreciate that considering what happened last time you had a little too much fun during winter."

That surprises him, "You admit that you thought about my return."

She smirks, "I hoped. Very unlike me. I will purge myself of such an emotion as soon as I get back, I assure you."

"I would give you a few suggestions."

"Bite me."

"Promises, promises."

They both share a smile, and it's reminiscent of a time when they dared to use the term "friends". Lilith sees the immediate danger-realizes they should not be this friendly, not now, not anymore, and clears her throat.

"I take it you would like me to make a life with you in Texas, with Allison?"

"Not quite." He has waited for this moment for so long, for a chance to be with her as whom he really is, not necessarily what...but he doesn't want to rush it. He doesn't trust this, whatever this is. He will wait, he will be patient, he will allow time to pass and observe her from afar and then he will decide when is the right time...he will not break into her home and ravage her in her sleep. He shakes that thought away immediately.

"I can provide you with the precise specifications for my identity, but I will need to grant you access to my mind to allow this. You will not deviate from what I will show you and you will not overstep, is that understood?"

"I tell you I had been your most faithful companion, and you still don't trust me?"

"Had. Past tense. Grammar is a hobby of mine."

She rolls her eyes, "I understand your conditions, Lucifer. Let's get this over with."

"One more thing; the demon you have watching her, call it back. With my return, she won't need any other guardians. One demon in her life is enough."


	2. Chapter 1 - Giving In

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note: **I actually thought of rewriting the Epilogue for The Final Prophecy. I don't know. There were a few things I just thought needed work before I wrote this chapter (which is why I don't like posting anything until I have the whole thing finished because my OCD will make me go back and fix it, even if it's not broken). But then I thought, what would Allison do? Would she fuss about changing something she can't change or would she just change everything going forward? Hmm, might work. And next thing I knew, my muse gave me something good to focus on. WARNING! This fic is way R rated. I mean, way. My only consolation when writing chapters this erotic is, well, I don't think many people that cannot fathom R ratings would watch the movies to begin with (I remember when I saw Viggo Mortensen as Lucifer. I was in my teens. I couldn't sleep without a nightlight for DAYS.), so I don't worry too much...but is a good R rating. A very good R rating. NC-17 kind of good...but they've earned it. Oh, have they earned it.

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**Chapter 1. **Giving In

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_You're the only story that I never told _  
_ You're my dirty little secret, wanna' keep you so _  
_ Come on out, come on over, help me forget _  
_ Keep the walls from falling on me, tumbling in_  
_ \- This is love that I'm feeling_

**"This is Love" PJ Harvey**

* * *

Allison still thinks she's dreaming. One moment, she had been getting ready for her dreaded blind date with an atheist professor, the next moment she was joined by none other than John. _Lucifer_. The Fallen One. The one who used her, then refused to help her, then wouldn't leave her alone...and in the end, he had died for her.

She had spent countless nights contemplating the impossibility of her situation: she was alive. Lucifer wasn't. He had died for her. He had left his entire domain to Lilith. Lilith, who should hate her guts, gave her a new identity in memory of him.

It didn't make sense. And what was even more awkward, they were having dinner, amongst humans and, even though Allison kept inquiring as to what happened to him after death, about how well she took it, how well _Lilith_ took it, John shushed her every time, telling her to speak only of approved dating topics, of the future, not the past. Allison only complied because the waitress already thought they were weird enough, an argument would probably make her call the cops.

However, Allison's concerns hadn't disappeared, just momentarily subdued. She'd give him this night of just them, no concerns - she owed him that much, she thought. But still...

To someone who had read the bible, perhaps not with the comprehension of the completely devout, Lucifer is selfish. He loves no one but himself. He enjoys destroying humanity, destroying whatever is good, and relishing in the suffering of others. He's a monster and, yet, he showed her…things she never thought him capable of.

Then again, he was an angel once, an arch, created by God.

Perhaps she shouldn't be so surprised. If there's something that she believed in above all else, other than God, of course, it's love. Love makes people do crazy things, stupid things and, more often than not, bad things. Terrible things. Is she one of John's terrible things?

"You haven't said a word since we left the restaurant," John pulls her away from her thoughts. She's been gripping the steering wheel for a while, trying to keep her focus on the road, and ignoring the fact she's driving John home, who had called a taxi – probably to make sure she would be the one to take him home.

"Sorry," she half smiles, "just have a lot on my mind."

"Wouldn't it be easier to simply voice what is on your mind?"

She can feel his eyes on her, but she doesn't turn her head to meet his. At dinner, she had been so shocked by his presence, yet so relieved, she didn't even have to think about her actions. He was alive. She wouldn't have to live with his absence, with the possibility of meeting someone else and comparing them to him, or worse, meeting someone else and having him show up _then_ – though that, to her, always seemed like the unlikeliest of options.

He was there. He found her. He'd been waiting for the right time…and he showed. He actually showed.

She smiles again, "Easier for you, maybe."

He returns her smile, slightly, looking down at his hands, "I have other ways to extract information."

The blood threatens to rush to her head; as soon as he says that, memories come sweeping in, and she's trying not to anticipate what she's driving into as it causes her body to react on instinct.

She shudders.

"I don't think you're thinking about extracting information as much as you are thinking about making me forget it," she mutters, taking care to stop at every stop sign and, she's glad she's the one driving because she's not sure if John can even drive, let alone obey the laws of traffic enough to be patient. She can tell he's undressing her with his eyes and her skin tingles at the very thought of it. This is normal. This is them. But how many times...how many...

"Allison," he snaps her out of her reverie, "you just drove past my building."

"Oh, sorry," she slows down, looking at her rear view mirror, deciding to just make a U-turn since the roads are not that busy. She's not surprised that John lives downtown - it's close to the university he works at - but the fact that it towers over them unsettles her. He directs her to the parking garage underneath the building and the security guard that lets them through almost had his eyes fall out when he realized John was in the passenger seat, and with a girl, no less.

"You don't bring women here very often, do you?" She tries to smile, making light conversation to calm her nerves as he directs her to what he calls his parking spot in a dark little corner further away from the elevator than she'd like - why she's nervous after everything she's gone through with him, she doesn't know, but she is half-human, after all. The most dominant part of her always has been, she thinks.

"Never would be a more fitting term," he replies as she parks, turning the ignition off, and she looks at him, eyebrow quirked, and it's his intense gaze, the seriousness of his statement, that makes her do something she didn't think she'd be doing - at least not _there_. She unbuckles her seatbelt and without so much as a "by your leave", moves toward him so that she claims his mouth in a desperate kiss. He pulls her the rest of the way, letting her throw herself on him in the most awkward position she's yet to manage. The car is spacious as there is a comfort to a Kia - the Kia Sorento - which she had enjoyed in her previous life, as her mother seemed to like those the most. He lets the seat fall back to better accommodate her form and helps her straddle him, his hand on her rear, pushing himself against her until either of them can't - won't - breathe for fear of stopping.

She feels his erection - feels herself ready - and she breaks the kiss, locking gazes with him, and she's about to say she hopes he lives on the first floor but his smile tells her he knows what she's thinking - hoping for - and, knowing John, of course he wouldn't settle for anything but a penthouse kind of flat.

_Fuck that_, she thinks, and the movements are quick - clumsy - but with every intent made. When she feels the skin of his shaft, it's a struggle trying to get her pants off - had she known he'd be the blind date, she would've been smart enough to wear a skirt - but once it's off, he slips himself inside and it's almost as if months had not passed, as if they had never died at all, as if life had been there, waiting for them, connecting themselves in a way that nothing else could ever fit, ever compare to.

There's no grace to it, no soft kisses or gentle caresses. They're both moving frantically, thrusting upwards, rocking hips, pulling hair, biting lips, moaning into long, deep kisses that threaten to unmake them both. Her release is quick - it's been too long - and she shudders through it, but John doesn't stop, instead he pulls her closer to him, his head buried in her neck until she hears him growl - feels the vibrations coming from his chest - and he finally comes, biting her shoulder in a way that makes her come a second time, an entire wave of pleasure touching down to the tip of her toes and she realizes then, she can't move. Her legs feel like jelly. She laughs, catching her breath, lying on him, trying not to fall asleep.

"We're going to get caught," she mutters.

"Allison, I'm sure had we had an audience, even they would have the common decency to applaud and leave us be."

"Not everyone is as perverse as you," she smiles.

"Of course not," he caresses her thigh with his thumb, "now, do you keep tissues in your vehicle, or should I pull out and ruin your seat?"

"Don't, wait, don't move, keep it in," she instructs as she sits up, trying to lean back so she can reach for the glove compartment behind her. John takes this as an invitation to lift her shirt and play with one of her nipples. It makes the heat down there grow.

_He's insatiable_, she thinks. Then again, so is she.

She manages to find a few napkins from the many drive-thru places she's collected them from. She hands him a couple and keeps a few to herself. As they separate, she covers her sex with a napkin, tries to stuff it as close to the entrance as possible and then manages to jump back to her seat, bumping the emergency break and the steering wheel, but nothing that would leave a huge bruise - John's teeth usually take care of those.

John hands her her underwear and pants and she tries to make sure she's done _leaking_ before she tries to make a mess of her clothes.

They're both catching their breath when, suddenly, a sound shocks her. John is laughing. He's actually laughing. She's seen him smile, she's seen him smile in so many ways she knows the meaning of each mile - one as mischievous as the next - but laughing? It makes him look younger...and human. It's so beautiful, she almost cries. She can't speak, won't, for fear of stopping him. He stops laughing, eventually, and looks at her in his most boyish smile.

"I had originally thought you wouldn't make it past the elevator. You, my dearest, have surprised me yet again, and that is no easy feat."

She smiles, blinking away a tear, "Well, then, shall we?"

His smile is curious, almost pensive, and he reaches for her cheek, brushing away the tear. "Of course. Though, lets keep our clothes on this time. Sadly, sheep have rules about sex in public places." Off her quirked brow, "This parking space has a delicious blind spot. Had you not made the first move, I would have."

"Good to know," she smiles, pocketing her keys and stepping out, her legs still tingling but able to move now. They meet at the front of her car and John waves to someone behind her. When she turns, he seen another security guard, an older man, and by the smile plastered all over his face and the thumbs up he gives when Allison eyes him, she knows he saw. She blushes, laughing into John's chest, and he finds her hand, giving it a squeeze that makes her _not_ care who probably saw her ass while she tried to take off her pants not too long ago.

When they head to the elevator, John proves he was right. They're already kissing, touching, breathing each other in and, even though they keep their clothes on, it doesn't make it any less indecent.

They stumble out of the elevator, finally, and she thinks they should probably stop kissing to see where they're going but John disagrees. He won't stop touching her and she can't stop touching _him_ as a result. When they're at his door, he has to stop, she thinks, but he doesn't, simply continues to kiss her against the door as he uses one hand to find his keys and make the door open for them.

He separates only to ensure it's locked behind them and then he picks her up, as if she'd weigh less than a feather, and with her arms around his neck, the kiss continues. She keeps her eyes closed, blinding herself to what she knows must be a lavish apartment, but all she cares about is John, not where he's taking her to. Once he drops her on a very soft mattress - probably memory foam, she thinks - he's pulling her pants off again and before she can even ask if they should probably shower first, he is on top of her, kissing every inch of her skin until his head is between her legs and then she's lost, she's gone, her mind is spinning and John is at the center of it all.

That night, she becomes acquainted with the world eternal in completely different way. It's not eternal damnation she's feeling, or eternal hell fire, or eternal torment. It's bliss. They've covered every inch of the bed and, once they shed the desperation, once they realize neither of them is going to die tomorrow and they might finally have a chance at _more_, their movements are slow, wanting to discover every inch of themselves anew, and they do. She laughs when he finds a ticklish spot (on the back of her knee and across her butt, only if you touch it just right, a feather-like touch) and he laughs when they both fall to the floor, blankets and all, because of their occasional power struggle of who's on top.

As the sun begins to rise, they both realize they've been going at it far longer than should be considered normal - have they ever _been_ normal? She starts doing the math in her head to think how long they've been at it after which John decrees, "Not long enough, if you're still conscious enough to do mathematical equations," and after she laughs, trying to run away from his grip, he claims her again, her sex is on fire - a delicious fire - as he takes her from behind and she's laughter and moans, digging her nails into the carpet, wondering how much of this she can take before her body collapses, before her mind shorts out, before her entire existence tells her it's time to stop.

Can people die of pleasure and happiness? John is intent on helping her find out.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Phew. Hot. I mean, well. I imagined the reunion would involve some of this, but not an entire banquet of it. Yum yum. I like surprising myself, because I do. I start writing one thing and then suddenly I'm all like, "Well, then. Cold shower it is. Thanks, muse." I do want to take a moment to say how wonderful you guys are, have been, and continue to be. I love writing, don't often get a chance to (work, boyfriend, my health and my muse; sigh, it doesn't always give me the chance to), but when I do, you guys give me something to look forward to, even if I end up hurting a bit in the end, it's worth trying. So, thanks. And now that the honeymoon phase/chapter is done, oh, what reality awaits? My muse has given me a few clues and, let me tell you, I don't like it, especially since it might mean doing more research than I'd want to do on the Apocalypse -_- lets just say, when I read certain things/topics, I tend to dream about them. Vividly. It's not funny to do an oral report in college about Tsunamis and then dream you're outrunning one and feel yourself hugging your loved one, crying because you know you're both going to die, and then feel the blast of the water hit you. Woke up crying from that one. So, yeah, I try to avoid certain reading topics (though, erotica, whooohooo, do not mind dreaming about that) *sigh* sadly, my muse likes the darkness better than I do. C'est la vie.


	3. Chapter 2 - A Time for Mysteries

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** I don't know if any of you have seen the film "Thinner" (based on a book by Stephen King...amazing author. Completely unrelated to this fic and the point of this comment, if you haven't read Rose Madder, add it on your to-read list. One of my favorites), but if you have, then you know the actress that portrays Allison has a small but significant role in it. She's one of the gypsies. A very attractive one, if I do say so myself. While I don't see her in that wig at all, writing this chapter, seeing how John saw her, made me think of her part in that film. As plain as she can seem (especially if she's wearing plain, Catholic-approved clothes), she has the potential to look, um, not so plain. Not plain at all.

* * *

**Chapter 2.** A Time for Mysteries

* * *

_We made it to hell and back, our hearts intact._  
_ But the faith I had gained you seemed to lack._

"**Lover Let Me In**"** Maria Mena**

* * *

John watches her sleep. He doesn't move, he breathes slowly - quietly, patiently - and he simply watches her body resting face down on the mattress, her cheek on his stomach, her hair a complete mess, covering half her face. Her arms are above her, one over his stomach, palm down, the other over his legs. He's thankful he has control of himself or else his erection would've have been poking either her chest or her arm, depending on which angle it decided to go for. She looks beautiful to him like this, just like this, like a wild gypsy, her skin coated with sunlight and her smile full of promises, of honesty and truth. Such a rare brand of sheep, yet so common, the song she sings is one only he can listen to, and _feel_.

He wants this moment to be forever encased in a memory, of the instant when he made love to Allison as just another man - another supernatural being with the physical body of a man - not the Prince of Darkness, not Satan, and yet, his change in title doesn't make him feel in any way different. He still cares very little for people as a whole - especially those below him who bore him with their monotone life, those who ignore the possibility of greatness and potential, those who really don't deserve anything but delicious punishment for their incompetence. John is still Lucifer. A title can change, but a being's personality remains intact. He had never been one to believe that the evil could be purged so easily. Even an alcoholic in rehabilitation will slip every so often, the only way to keep from doing so is to control your environment, to remove the alcohol, and to keep yourself as far away from temptation.

However, when you're the devil - _were _the devil - evil is everywhere, choices to be made, needs to fulfill.

Right now, in this moment, he wants to be selfish - _so very selfish -_ to use whatever connections he has left and take her as far away from the world as possible, to live apart, to make love all night, all day, to give in to bodily needs when warranted, but to simply give in to each other until the world ended, far away from _them_, so that they don't notice, blissfully unaware of everything that aren't naked limbs, moans and pleasure, so much pleasure.

His thoughts cause his cock to stir, just a twitch, but he controls it, clearing his throat and smiling.

Such a woman God made - a product of an angel and a mortal, no doubt, but still a child of God. How did he make her so common, so human, yet so captivating at the same time?

"Hmmm," he feels her moan into his stomach as she stirs, edging closer to him, so that her arms embrace his stomach. He smiles, brushing the hair off her face, and it makes her eyes flutter before finally opening, blinking once, twice, before she smiles and presses her face into his stomach, stretching awkwardly for a moment before she relaxes herself on top of him, looking nothing like a human and more like a very satiated feline.

"Good afternoon," he murmurs, and she smiles again, her hair covering half her eye. She blows it off and they both chuckle. She starts to crawl towards him until their faces are inches away and she parts her lips, watching him, and he's perfectly still, waiting.

When her lips brush against his, they're soft, tender, appreciative, and once her mouth opens, his hands are at the back of her head, pulling her closer, and she's straddling him again and it's the same dance all over again, skin slapping against skin, breath and moans mingling. John sits up, holding her close to him, whispering words in her ears - _commands -_ and she meets each and every one, leaving marks he's not likely to forget.

Her legs are locked behind his back and they're not in a hurry, enjoying their movements, the fulfillment of filling each other with pleasure, with friction, with embraces and kisses. When John turns them, he loses himself in her, pulling her legs to rest above his shoulders and she bites the pillow in absence of him, and he hasn't much more to fill her _with_ but it doesn't stop him from trying, from driving himself so far into her that he swears he'll break them both and when they collapse, they're next to each other, with half her body draped over his and they're both spent, sticky and a total mess.

"We've wasted an entire day-"

"Bite your tongue, actually, never mind that, I'll do it for you," and off her chuckle, he simply kisses her forehead, "We've wasted nothing. If my memory serves me right, we've enjoyed every second. Do you consider that a waste?"

She shakes her head, "You know what I meant. We haven't..."

He sighs, "You expect answers, as always." Her silence gives him the only answer he needs, "What if I told you answers would complicate things? I know you. It is because I know you that I knew once you learned of my motives with the sisters, you would jump to your own conclusions and do what you wanted to do, irregardless of what it would do to you, to us. You're too reckless, too selfless."

"I'm not selfless," she murmurs, but does not deny the reckless part, "I kept coming back for you, remember?"

His half-smile is honest, "Yes, I do. I also mentioned you were reckless." They intertwine their hands together and he kisses the back of her hand, before resting it on his chest. "All right, what do you wish to know?"

She looks into his eyes, surprised, then looks down, sorting in her head which question he's probably likely agree to answer first.

"What happened...when you died?"

He had expected that question, of course, and still hadn't come up with a good answer for it. The truth would have to do. Lies, at this point, would complicate things...would give them a way to ruin his second chance. Or is this his third?

He considers his words carefully, "I remember darkness. I remember the cold. I remember silence, but as my mind was my own, it was only my body I had no control over-if I even had a body, wherever I was," he smiles, wondering what kind of hell God would concoct for someone like him...nothingness? It would not surprise him in the least. After all, he and his Father did not exactly part in good terms. He was cast out. He did not _fall_. There was absolutely nothing poetic about it. It was a banishment, plain and simple, a lesson to be learned, one he came to terms with shortly after. He would rather be the Prince of Darkness than the servant of a tyrant he no longer believed in; one that would sacrifice His own son to save the lives of His precious mortals, most of which no longer believed in Him. That brings forth a memory that makes him smile.**  
**

"Was it limbo?" Allison's voice is quiet, careful, as if trying to spare his feelings. How _sweet._

"No," he tries not to laugh at her assumption, "Limbo is quite different and often a playground for most angels on either side. In the end, I awoke in an alley and received quite a welcome party." Off her quirked brow, "Oh, no one special. No one I'm fond of, really. The son of your God, the presumably sanctimonious prodigy."

That makes Allison's breath hitch, "Jesus? You're serious. Jesus was there?"

He laughs softly, realizing how insane that sentence sounds out loud, "Yes, he was there to see me off. He did not enlighten me as to why I was here or why I was brought back...he told me you were waiting."

"Me?" She blushes, swallowing hard, "He knew I'd be waiting?"

"What is it that truly surprises you," He smiles, "The fact that Jesus saw me off or that Jesus knew you were waiting for me?"

"Stop it," she tries to push herself into a seating position, clearly embarrassed, trying to put distance between them, but he keeps her against him, between his arm and his ribs, "John." She obviously has too much of the fear of God.

"You must know, Allison," he uses his strength to turn the odds and move to rest on top of her, pinning her under him, "He knows everything. I must say, they must keep an eye on us, for no other reason than fascination and entertainment. And, as I'm sure you know, the show has only just begun," the way smirks tells her what kind of show he plans on continuing.

"John, I've been holding it in for hours," she tries, in vain, to shove him off, and he can tell she's partly lying, "It's not hard to do, most of the time, but once I go over 12 hours, it gets a little bit painful," she shimmies her way out from under him and, well, he allows it, because he himself had allowed himself to eat and drink last night, he understands what she means, even though he knows it's just a clever excuse to get out of their current discussion...he'll allow it, for now.

He walks into the bathroom and she closes her legs, causing him to quirk a brow as in, really, he's been there before, nothing that comes out of there would surprise him.

_She must really be sensitive about the possibility of a voyeur Jesus._

He heads straight for the stand up shower, opening the glass door of the spacious tiled bathroom, the light brown, almost seashell colored, and he makes sure to turn around and smile at Allison's watchful eyes as he closes the door. He runs the hot water first - he never, ever minds hot, scalding water - but adapts it to a tolerable level just in case she decides to join him.

To his amusement, she decides to continue asking questions before even thinking of doing him the common courtesy of joining him.

"I'm still trying to get over the fact that Jesus told you I was waiting for you. It actually borders on creepy, terrifying, and not at all what I thought would bring you back to me."

He chuckles, "Jesus did not bring me to you, Allison, and you should never ever say that aloud. It may hurt what's left of my credibility. You brought me to you, plain and simple, although I should be angry at you."

"At me?" She nearly shrieks.

"You had to get involved in Gabriel and Michael's plans for you, you had to save the girl, you had to save me - you couldn't just let me lead-"

"-because the kind of world you were trying to lead us into is not one I was willing to live in-"

"-and while your ingratitude does not make you any less appealing to me, you're forgiven, to a point, but know now that every time you attempt to refuse or disobey-"

"Disobey!? I think you have the wrong idea of what this relationship has been defined by, and obeying isn't it-"

"I will remind you of the realm I left, for you, the throne I stood down from, the million of loyal subjects I've disappointed and the billion of souls that will miss my delicious torment-" She interrupts him, finally, by opening the glass door and stepping in, her eyes on fire. When she notices his smile is wide, like the Cheshire cat kind of wide, she knows he was baiting her and she narrows her eyes before she slaps his chest.

That's all he needs to get her to come close to him again, to hold her body against him under the warm water and, it's not long until their bodies are dancing again, her face against the glass.

"John, don't," she says through gritted teeth.

"Don't what?" He leans closer, their bodies too close for her not to feel his need - his constant need of her.

"Don't try to turn me into you when you know...I can't be that. I'll never be that. I thought you'd realize that by now..."

When he turns her around, her eyes look scared, worried even, and it makes him want to curse what's left of his existence - what's left of God's. He caresses her cheek with his thumb, "If I had wanted you to be like me, Allison, I would've never given you a chance to stop me."

And he doesn't let her think that through as he claims her lips knowing full-well, she won't stop him. Not now. Not ever.

She is his.

* * *

"Any news?" Lilith looks bored on the throne, looking down on one of her subjects who is kneeling before her and has yet to raise her head.

Lilith hasn't really taken the task of redecorating - there were many things about Lucifer that annoyed her, his decorative skills certainly not one of them - but she had gone through lengths to make the hold over _her_ dominion known. No man, or woman, looks her in the eye unless invited to, all of her minions report directly to her, her authority is not to be questioned or challenged and those who do are dealt with, _immediately._ One of the things she liked about Lucifer was that, during his reign, he wasn't a tyrant. He allowed Belial to rebel, he used a monkey to seek him out, but he did it as a game, just to watch the pieces move. Lilith understands tactics but she also understands that, in spite of the fact that he chose _her_ to succeed him, there are too many possibilities of someone trying to undermine her; some are still loyal to Lucifer, and she needs to be very careful of those, even if it makes her behavior border on paranoid and/or psychotic from time to time.

The fallen kneeling before her is a dangerous one, one even Lucifer himself did not trust enough to involve her in his inner circle, but her skills are ones Lilith needs as with her power comes certain advantages.

The fallen finally raises her head, her auburn-colored eyes glistening, her face chiseled like a wood nymph, so much mischievous grace, and dark brown hair falling lazily over the sides of her face. When she smiles, it looks positively feral, and Lilith has the good sense to narrow her eyes as a warning, "Well?"

"It is all falling into place, Mistress, just as I said it would." Her voice is small, child-like, which is ironic given the circumstances.

A fallen like Procel has many tricks up her sleeve, many secrets and very little loyalties.

As Lilith smiles, Procel's smile widens, wielding a secret that not even she will tell.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah. It won't be all pretty and nice after this one, I'm afraid. Is it sad that Procel was supposed to be a man in my head and as I finished writing it, became a woman? Or not odd at all, since most literature indicate angels have no real gender. And I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Crazy, crazy life. Dallas Comic Con (where I met Nathan Fillion and Summer Glau, geek moment!) and mother-in-law coming down nearly every weekend because she is house-hunting (living closer to my boyfriend's mother...oh, dear) and, well, it'll be harder to update (work is crazy) but I'll do my very best. These two are far from over, it appears, since I've been doing way more research into the history behind the fallen as a whole, and the impending apocalypse, I'm this close to giving myself a nightmare. THIS close. But all for a good cause I suppose...we shall see (since, this time, I'm not 100% sure it'll have a happy ending. Sigh.)

**Proofreading Note: **Also, I've concluded the reason it takes me so long to post these is because I proofread before I publish, I have no one to proofread for me, and try to proofread it until I have no corrections to make on the last proofreading attempt...so, maybe, I should soon consider getting a beta-reader...we shall see.


	4. Chapter 3 - When Angels Descend

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's** **Note: **So, this chapter, hmmm...I had envisioned it one way and then when I started typing, well, it kind of got away from me. I have no idea where it's taking me at this point. I mean, I have an inkling as to how it's going to end (ah, it tugs the heartstrings), but the journey there? It's surprising even me, and that's saying something! I should also mention that on the 12th of July, I will be going on a trip back home (with my boyfriend and his mother, oh goodness), so I will be out for a whole week with limited access to the internet and might not be able to update for a while. Take that and the fact that I have acute sinusitis (again) isn't helping matters. I apologize for the wait, but hopefully, I can make it worth it!

* * *

**Chapter 3. **When Angels Descend**  
**

* * *

_How can you expect more of me?_  
_I come from chaos_  
_Brought up in tragedy_

**"You Hurt the Ones You Love (I Don't Believe That)" Maria Mena  
**

* * *

Allison is trying to wrap her head around the fact that, well, the past day and a half, they've been going at it like rabbits...now that she put her foot down about, well, needing to put her foot down rather than having her legs up in the air the whole time - or wrapped around his waist - it seems they're having...communication issues.

John hadn't really bought anything to cook during his time living there, though he did have fruits, which he enjoys quite a bit, and he had offered to buy a live chicken which he would be more than happy to decapitate and have her fix it into a meal.

"No," she had immediately responded, "I'd rather not be in charge of cooking the chicken after seeing you break its neck."

To which he had responded with, "Ripping a heart out of an angel, you have no trouble with, but killing a chicken, for the purpose of sustenance, that startles you?"

Allison had wanted a meal, something quick, so they opted for pizza, and Allison had been amused to discover John is a very bad tipper - luckily, she isn't.

As they shared the meal, the subject of occupations came up, and while John is doing very well with his chosen profession - and enjoys it, sadistically - being a professor of theology at a university with exclusive Catholic roots, Allison is not doing well enough...not in John's eyes.

"How exactly is my job trivial?" She narrows her eyes, daring him to continue his side of the argument.

"You're an accountant, Allison," he says, as that alone should be the only evidence needed as to why her job is trivial. "Granted, math is the key to the universe, but that particular brand of math is almost...undignified. You calculate the numbers based on someone else's expenses. Doesn't it make you feel like you're being paid a fragment of what your CEO receives from your work? Have you even met your CEO?"

Allison wants to throw him with the pizza slice, mushrooms and all, because, damn it, he has a point. John has always had a way with the truth, even if he is, by nature, a liar.

"I chose my profession," she says through gritted teeth, "not because it was important, life-altering or rich, but because it is quiet and peaceful. I don't have to interact with people, care about them or risk losing them. It is a job I can do well, and do it without anyone trying to get in my way."

"But it is not you," he argues, as-a-matter-of-factly, swishing his wine around, delicately, before touching the glass to his lips.

She gapes, "And what am I, John? A nephalim? Once that has lost nearly everything that matters, except her memories? Do you want me to work at a school again, to see you with a student, to remember the pain inflicted, what you're capable of-"

"You are weakening yourself by hiding," his eyes are firm, serious, but it's the tone of his voice that stops her cold. "Need I remind you when was it that I realized my feelings for you, Allison? It wasn't when you found the book, nor when you brought it to me, nor when you killed your brother," he smiles at how much that actually surprised him, "nor when you sought my assistance...no, then, you were only an intriguing little monkey, a means to an end, but it took much longer than that to realize what you meant...most mortals spend their entire life dreaming, running towards impossible goals, but running to them all the same. You? You spent your entire life shrouded in nightmares and yet...you never ran. You tried to pretend, to be normal, but you never once disappeared. You sought me out. You found me. I found you. Not in that order," he smiles. "And now, after my presumed death, you hide? Allison...you are so much better than that."

Allison doesn't know if it's because of his confession of love - the reminder of when and how - or how he touched too close to home - the past to her, so far away, but still screams at her from up close - or how he just made her feel like her life choice, after his death, has been such a letdown...she stands up and walks towards the door, getting her keys from the small table, in the foyer, and even though she hears him call after her - only once - she doesn't turn around.

She can't let him see his words _still_ hurt.

No matter what he _thinks_ he knows, she _is_ better than that, and she will not just sit there and take it.

She _won't._

* * *

John smiles for three reasons: one, the fact that he can rile her up so easily still amuses him - she's beautiful even when she's pissed. Two, he's lived longer than monkeys have had the privilege of existing and he knows these silly mortals don't love anything enough until they've fought for it, and with it, enough times to make their heads spin. And lastly, he is who he is, and pushing someone over the edge is what he does best, and in Allison's case, she needs it.

If they are to live the life he wants for them, he wants her to be blissfully happy. Not content, not satisfied in simplicity, but standing at the top of the world. She could be a lawyer, a judge, a professor, a teacher, a principal, a dean, a radical, anything that could unleash and exploit her potential, though knowing Allison, she'd be content with being a nun. He smirks - that profession wouldn't last long, not with him around.

"Careful, Lucifer, those thoughts might land you in a place that is no longer yours to reign."

Lucifer doesn't turn to look who spoke or who's standing behind him. He doesn't have to.

"Gabriel, to what do I owe this inconvenience?"

Gabriel walks towards his peripheral vision, but not quite in front of him. He's waiting for Lucifer to turn and meet his eyes. He will do no such thing.

"It's only been a day, already you're pushing her away. Tsk, not exactly what I call charming. So disappointing, considering how good you were with Eve."

Lucifer smiles, pretending he doesn't care about Gabriel's inquiries, but he does...it can only mean one thing.

"I did not request your services as a couple's counselor, Gabriel, and as such, there should be no reason for your commentary on how I conduct myself towards Allison." He finally turns his face, wishing to catch Gabriel off guard, to see some kind of reaction or sign as to what is going on - what are they plotting now? "Or is there a reason why you care?"

"She's interesting to you. Why shouldn't she be interesting to us?"

_Us_. The pronoun echoes in his head.

"I doubt your interest in her is the same as mine...or did you enjoy yesterday's show as much as I enjoyed performing it?"

"Oh, Lucifer," Gabriel smiles, walking closer towards the table, tapping his fingers over its length until he reaches the place where Allison had sat across from Lucifer. He takes the seat, almost theatrically, and crosses his legs, leaning back and placing a finger over his lip in thought. "Your return to this world is as much of a show...as mine was when you kicked me out of your domain."

He remembers that time. Gabriel is...well, he's trouble. In Heaven and in hell. He isn't a bad arch. Far from it, he is exceptional at what he does, however...he has certain attitude problems and, as devout as he claims to be towards his Lord and Master, he may, at times, steer away from the rules for the sake of what he may think is his Lord's vision. Then again, that only happened once. Well, twice. Lucifer only disobeyed once (well, maybe more than once) and he never once received forgiveness. Maybe that's why he and Gabriel never got along too well...otherwise, they're more alike than either of them would be willing to admit.

"Being as I am not privy as to why I've been sent back, I couldn't agree nor disagree. Care to share the reason of why He brought me back?" Lucifer leans forward, elbows on the table, chin over his hands which he joins together, fingers intertwined.

This makes Gabriel bark a laugh, "Now you're trying too hard. Lucifer," he leans forward, his eyes wide, the wrinkle around them showing too much amusement for John's liking. "The reason doesn't matter half as much as the consequences your actions may bring."

That breaks Lucifer's patience. One moment, he is sitting on his chair, calm, collected, the other moment he stands, flips the table to the side as if weighed nothing and moved towards Gabriel, placing each hand on the sides of the chair, "Enough. I may not be the fallen I once was, but I am a fallen all the same, and I will take pleasure in reminding Him of that fact."

Gabriel isn't laughing anymore, at least, his face is simply bemused, almost bored. He looks under his fingernails, "Consider yourself lucky, Lucifer. We're under strict orders not to touch you," that makes Lucifer raise an eyebrow. "We can't stop you, we can't hunt you, but no one said anything about annoying you."

"Clearly," Lucifer notes the obvious.

"And that should be a hint, Lucifer. _We_ can't touch _you. _Allison is, tragically, off limits as of recently, though there is some interesting fine print as to other angels...your former brethren, to be exact."

That makes Lucifer tense. Being the Prince of Darkness had its perks; how many times did he have to keep his subjects away from his nephalim? Unlike God, he kept a tight leash on his subjects - no one touched her without paying the price.

"Are you as selfless as you seem, when it comes to her?"

"I gave my life for hers once, dying again would make no difference to me," he says, without much thought.

"No!" Now it's Gabriel's turn to stand, and Lucifer takes his arms away - he has no choice - but he does not take a step back, making the proximity between them a dangerous one. Gabriel is taller, by a margin, but this doesn't deter Lucifer - as if anything ever could. "You ripped my heart out once, Satan, and pulled me to your dirty little plane of existence that reeked of bitterness, and I am still alive. You knew you wouldn't die. You knew you would survive it. You may not have known your destination, but you knew it wasn't over. You sacrificed a title that became a burden, but you did not sacrifice your life."

Lucifer doesn't allow himself a moment to consider those words, he simply does the only thing he can do, at this point, to save face.

He smiles, a very naughty smile.

"So, is that what this is about?" After noticing Gabriel's mirthless face, "You came all this way to throw a fit at the fact that I ripped my own heart out, and because I had an inkling of the end result, you consider that...cheating? Why, Gabriel, I confess I'm not exactly Jesus Christ, but then again, why should I be when there is very little amusement in playing fair?"

"Don't let your pride blind you, Lucifer. Even you are not that kind of an idiot. You know that with Him, your behavior will not be as fun as you want it to be."

"Oh, right, the omnipotent; the one who knows all, sees all," he mocks. "Tell me, Gabriel, can your faith explain this? If He truly is as powerful as is believed, then why are we here? If you had the ability to know everything that has happened and will happen, would you continue the existence of so much suffering and pain, so much betrayal, even your betrayal? If he truly is all powerful, why does he act so helpless?"

Gabriel leans in, too close, whispering in Lucifer's ear, "You are very lucky that He has ordered us not to touch you or else you'd be spending the next century putting your limbs back together, you ungrateful, spoiled brat."

With that, Gabriel walks off, around Lucifer, careful not to touch him, looking at him as if he were infected somehow.

Lucifer's lips thin, no longer smiling, knowing Gabriel is about to disappear behind him, but he has to know - he has to know how is it he still believes - Lucifer doesn't. "You didn't answer my question, Gabriel. Why do you still believe?"

There is a moment of silence - Lucifer thinks Gabriel has gone, for a moment, but Gabriel's words are soft now, patient even, as if addressing a child. "Because, unlike you, I never saw myself equal to Him. I just didn't see **them** worthy of Him. He is better than us, better than all the monkeys combined, yet He doesn't believe that. He believes us to be His children, worthy of His love, patience and forgiveness - more than we could ever earn in a million lifetimes. He is not helpless," his voice takes a bemused turn as he pauses, "We are."

When Lucifer turns, Gabriel, and any trace left behind, has gone.

He closes his hand in a fist. If there is something Lucifer does not enjoy being is _helpless_ \- being told he's helpless by an arch no less, well, that just adds insult to injury.

* * *

When Allison finally arrives home, she's never been so relieved. Part of her feels like she left a big part of herself behind - after you spend so many lifetimes chasing a love that is clearly wrong for you, that tends to happen - but she functions all the same, walking up to her front porch, opening the door, only to hear the mewling of her cat.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm a horrible person," she bends over to scoop up the cat in her arms as soon as he lets her, though he struggles against it at first, but once he's a ball of white fur in her arms - and she has him in the right position, holding him like a baby, as she used to do when he was just a kitten - he simply meows and turns his head, then his body, until she has no choice but to let him go before she her arms pay the price.

She heads to the kitchen first and sees the cat's water bowl is almost empty. She tends to that first before opening a cat of tuna. Normally, she would feed him actual cat food, but right now, she has amends to make.

Allison finds comfort in the simplicity of doing this: caring for someone other than herself, focusing on those needs and thinking of nothing else, but it does not last long.

She's leaning on the island, in the kitchen, replaying John's conversation - his end of it, at least - and how much it bothered her.

He's right. She did run, she hid, but in her defense, she thought he was dead. After his death...she didn't want anything to do with any of it. No more angels or nephalims. She just wanted to be Allison. She just wanted to be at peace. She wanted, hoped, that if she led a good life, if she made amends and answered for her sins - John, mainly - that she could at least be forgiven, by God, and maybe, just maybe, he would be merciful enough to reunite her with him.

She'll never admit that to John, though. He'd probably mock her or say something equally insulting towards her faith, her hope, that maybe, just maybe, they can both be forgiven and somehow, it'll all be okay.

Even she finds the thought of it ridiculous.

How can God forgive her? Not only has she fallen in love with the damned - devil or not - but she's joined him in whatever they are now. She's never been strong enough to walk away - not for very long, at least.

Her attention is stolen by a purring cat and it makes her smile as she watches him move between her legs, around them, rubbing his fur against her skin.

"Lucifer, you spoiled brat, are you saying you missed me?" She says aloud, looking down at the cat, and she chuckles to herself, wondering what John would think once he finds out she has a cat - again - and that she named him after _him_, his true name, one she avoids using, unless...unless his behavior reminds her of it.

"Really, Allison, I'm hurt," the male voice behind her makes her jump. She turns around so fast that she's pretty sure she just got whiplash and probably needs to see a chiropractor. When her eyes find the source, her heart drops, her mind just stalls and she's not sure if she can even breathe.

"Simon." Her heart skips a beat, and another, until she _has_ to breathe, and his smile, it's dazzling, and it reminds her of a time so long ago, when she saw him, barely, through the glare of the sun, like a mist, almost there but not quite.

She only saw him that one time, but she would never forget, and his voice...his voice had been her companion for so long - her _torment_.

"Precisely. My name is far more suitable for a cat than Lucifer," he continues to smile and it's only after she starts crying like an idiot that he moves away from her window and pulls her into an embrace.

He's real. He's not in her head anymore, he's not just a voice in the back of her mind, he's not just someone _partly_ responsible for her parentage.

He's real.

And that brings forth the obvious question...she leans away from his embrace, but he doesn't let her go, his hands on her shoulders as he looks into her eyes, almost as if he's examining her, "Better?"

"Why...why are you here?" She sniffs, clearing the tears away with the back of her hand. She wants to trust him. She's always trusted him even before she knew who _he_ was, but in light of her life and how it usually plays out when it comes to angels, she has to ask.

"Why am I always here?" He smiles at her as if she's being silly, "I've come to help, whether he likes it or not."

Allison doesn't have to be told who he means by "he". Suddenly, her stomach drops.

She has a feeling things are going to get far more interesting than she wants them to be.

* * *

**Author's Afterwords: **Yeah. Don't look at me like that. I'm as stumped as you are. Firstly, Gabriel wasn't the angel I envisioned visiting John. So, then, when he came in, it was just too good to turn him away. See, a lot of people that see the movies get the movies, which makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, but then some people don't and they think Gabriel is a villain. Um, no, not really. Not to me, at least. He's faithful to his faith, he just lost faith in humanity, and why shouldn't he? Yes, he did a few things he shouldn't have been doing, buuuuut if you think about it, he's still faithful to his doctrine (to a point...flexible, really), and for John to come back at him like that...ooooh, it just all snapped into place so well. Simon, though, eludes me. I didn't see him coming and now that he has, I'm as skeptical and concerned as Allison is -_- and as the writer, that's not a good thing. Well, hope you enjoyed it! Now excuse me while I go question my muse's sanity.


	5. Chapter 4 - Safe House

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** Finally, an update! I want to thank you all for your patience, truly, it does mean a lot to me. It's been a while since I've been able to sit down and just write, and _enjoy_ it. Thank you to **Miss Vera** **Ni**, for understanding, and for your kind words! I can't promise they won't tug at your heart strings, but...we shall see :-) I am still in the process of proofreading, so I will post the chapters as I go along (because if I wait much longer, who knows when it'll get uploaded...) I do confess, I did go back to the Prologue and tweak a few things, as well as make some corrections. You are so right, the writing process is an intimate rush and sometimes, inspiration is brought on with such haste, you overlook the tiniest details (like the fact that John is referred to as John in descriptions even when around those who know him as Lucifer-I am fixing that, and I promise, as the story goes along...Lucifer will stop being John, even in Allison's eyes, but that's all I'm going to say for now!) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4. **Safe House

* * *

_I know they think I'm crazy  
But everything I am, is everything I was taught to be_

**"A Few Small Bruises" Maria Mena  
**

* * *

Allison sits on her couch, her feet pulled up, holding a glass of water in her hands and she's staring across the room, where Simon sits on her brown leather armchair with Lucifer, the cat, purring at his feet.

_Traitor, _she thinks. Both cats she has taken in as her own have had an odd affinity towards the angels in her life.

"So..." She finds a way to approach the subject - part of her wants to know, part of her _doesn't_. After his reveal, she had put her hand over his mouth and told him after the day she's had, she needs a drink, and for the sake of her need to be sober during their conversation, she'd opt for water and pretend it was vodka. So far, it's not working. They ended up in the living room as she thinks it's the most neutral area of the house and, well, she really wants to stay close to the entrance, in case she needs to run out for any reason. "What do I need help with, exactly?"

Simon quirks a brow, a slow smirk forming, "Well, when I say help, I mean the term loosely. I aim to guide...assist...contribute? Even if it is from afar. Well, as much as He'll allow, of course."

"Simon, please," she is not smiling, her expression looking tired, "I spent my entire life being a tool-"

"-an instrument," Simon corrects her.

She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Same difference."

"Not really."

"Are you really trying to argue semantics with me now, of all things?" She nearly shrieks, but off his patient smile, she relaxes, and continues. "I had you in my head all of my life. I grew up thinking there was something wrong with me and religion...I ended up finding solace in my faith, it was all I could do to try and stay normal, only to find out I'm not even close to the definition of normal thanks to the very thing I thought could keep me safe. Didn't anyone think I had a right to know? Wouldn't it had been so much easier if someone had told me? School was a nightmare, I barely had any friends, and don't pretend I don't know you're the reason my life was less than normal. I mean, I didn't even go to prom-"

"Joseph Frances was an idiot, and his intentions were far from honorable," Simon finally speaks up, giving her a knowing look and, somehow, it makes her feel embarrassed that he even _knows_ that, too. Well, it's not as if she had had honorable intentions, either, but she isn't going to address that right now, or the fact that everyone she became close to came with voices, warnings, _feelings_ she couldn't explain, only fear.

"The point is, you're the reason I went crazy, all of you; you're the reason I met **him**, you're the reason I've lived three lifetimes, all of which had an ulterior motive for being, so excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that you, like Gabriel, like Michael, have come to help me, when all you've ever done is move me around like an instrument," she uses the word mockingly, "while you all look back and see my life fall to pieces. I believe in God. I've never lost my faith, that was never the issue," she laughs, tiredly, "though the things I know now...it definitely has shaped that belief in a way that's no longer what it used to be," she frowns, knowing full-well that, in spite of her faith, she can't help but resent the fact...ignorance isn't bliss. Not anymore. "Simon, I will do whatever I can to preserve life and keep my reality from crumbling, but the cost...you angels don't care about the cost, you never have. Does He?"

"Allison, you feel you can trust me more than both of them combined," and off her narrowed eyes, he smiles again, his eyes glistening, "I remember you when you were just a little girl in Romania, Allison. You probably don't remember, but as a child, you could see me, and I'd watch you play...but when you started telling your foster parents about the strange man outside your window, I had to keep my distance, but I never strayed too far." He pauses, and Allison won't speak - can't - because of all the angels she's been given an audience with, Simon...he's the one she owes her entire existence to. She doesn't know if to hate him or love him for it, though she's probably feeling both.

"I can't answer your questions," he sighs, knowingly, "not all of them, not now, but someday, perhaps He'll allow it. For now, I was given the rare opportunity to see you, though there were some that disagreed."

Allison's brow furrows in confusion, "Are you...going against them?" She glances at the ceiling before meeting his eyes.

He chuckles, "No, I am not, though that would be another interesting twist, wouldn't it? No, Allison, I'm afraid I am still just a servant of God, though this is more of a gift to me than to Him." He stands, making Lucifer stare at him as he joins Allison on the couch, sitting next to her, pulling his hands into his and she turns, slightly, facing him. "I am proud of you, Allison, of the woman you have become...the choices you made were only a result of the circumstances placed before you. I have been and will always be your guardian, and I will defend you as long as your heart remains true and good. You have always been good. You've never stopped being good." He chuckles softly, "Once, I met a little girl, Mary. I had to hide something inside of her, something terrible, something that almost killed her..." He raises his hand to touch her cheek and Allison closes her eyes, leaning into his touch, telling herself that maybe, just maybe, this isn't as terrible as she thinks. Her eyes snap open when she feels his lips on her forehead and she watches as he pulls his hand back, leaning away from her now, his smile no longer as hopeful and kind as it was before. "I am sorry, but I must ask you to do something that much harder."

"How much harder?" Her voice quakes.

The corner of his lips turn, "Oh, nothing you can't handle. The funny thing is, this would've all ended much sooner had...had he not developed an interest in you. The possibility of you falling for him had always been there, you are only human after all, but Lucifer, that was a surprise to all of us...though, I'm sure He knew."

"Simon, please, just tell me what's going on." He's being nice, too nice, and it's making her think of how people would treat her when her Schizophrenia first started, how the nurses would talk to the patients that were on their deathbed - it is downright unnerving.

"There isn't any time," he looks outside her window, a frown forming, before meeting her eyes. "He will keep you safe. You will survive this, somehow, but Allison...it will take everything from you but it will give you so much more. You have to live, for all of them."

In one moment, she's about to protest, to tell him he's wasted all this time with stories of the past, with sentimental crap - John would've liked hearing her say that - but before she can even form a syllable, his hand is on her forehead and she feels as if someone just threw her against the wall, against another wall and another until she doesn't know if she's being pulled, if she's falling, or rising.

There is only darkness.

* * *

When John gives the taxi driver Allison's address, he expects it won't take long - he tried calling her but either she's not home or ignoring calls from unknown numbers.

John doesn't _panic_. He doesn't stress. There's no real point to it. If you worry, will it solve the issue? The sentiment is useless to him.

When they get closer into her neighborhood, John notices dark clouds bubbling into the sky. He hears the driver grumbling about grass fires, cigarette butts, but John knows better.

_Gabriel_.

They hear the sirens and the taxi car's breaks prove to be in top form when he avoids hitting a pedestrian who ran to cross the road without looking. John sizes him up, trying to see if the pedestrian did it intentionally or if it's a fallen, but it is just another monkey.

People are coming out of their houses to look, probably afraid it might spread to them, and when the taxi nears Allison's address, he can go no closer than the corner of the street as the fire truck, the ambulance and a few cop cars take precedence and are currently blocking Allison's driveway.

John feels anger rushing to his head, "Wait here," he gives the driver a couple of hundreds which elicits a 'Yes, sir!' from someone who had otherwise been grumbling and complaining the whole ride about every idiot driver that they crossed paths with.

John approaches the scene but the police officers only let you go so far and Texas, well, they don't play well with others when it comes to official matters. He's debating using his Interpol identity when he hears a cat mewling, rubbing his fur against his leg, and he then hears a young girl cry out, "Lucifer!" He quirks a brow, looking down at the feline again, its crystal blue eyes looking icy amongst a snowy-colored fur.

"I'm sorry, he isn't usually this friendly," the teenage girl with freckles picks him up and he objects, immediately, to John's amusement, "Stop it, Lou!"

"Interesting name," he admits, trying not to smile, as he scans the area, trying to find a target, any corrupt officer that may be easy to bend to his will, just like Dani was.

"Yeah, well, the owner is-was," she corrects, frowning, "a bit eccentric. I guess he's an orphan now," she looks at the burning house, which spread to the nearby houses, but the damages there are more inclined toward the trees and parts of the roof, but the house in question, where it started, most of it spread fast enough for the damage to be _everywhere_.

John glances at the cat again and then the teenager, his attention brought back to them, "Perhaps you should keep him. He seems to like you."

She snorts, "Barely. I'd watch him whenever Miss Light went on vacation. I can't believe...God, I hope they find her," the girl bites her lip, holding the feline closer to her chest, who clearly doesn't want to be that close if his claws have any say on the matter.

That's when things begin to click into place. A cat. Lucifer. Miss Light.

_Really, Allison,_ he thinks to himself, stuck between a smile and wreaking destruction in this entire block. _You survived. You always survive._

"This is Allison Light's cat?"

The girl nods in surprise, "Do you know Miss Light?"

"Sometimes I wonder," he murmurs, scratching the feline behind the ears, which he accepts, until he decides John's finger is his new chew toy. John can't help but smile then, "We were supposed to meet today..."

"Becca! Becca!" A scrawny, short kid, wearing glasses, jumps from one of the flower beds nearby, onto the sidewalk, and crashes into the girl and the girl, startled, loosens her grip on the cat; the cat simply uses it as a chance to escape and runs off into the direction of the crowd.

"No, Lucifer! Joey, we have to go after him!" The girl stands on her tiptoes, trying to see where the cat ran off to, but it's where the emergency vehicles have blocked anyone from passing.

"I'll go after it," John offers, as that had been his original plan after all.

The boy ignores him, pushing up his glasses on his nose, and he is quick to ignore the girl, apparently, as he rambles on, "There's no body, there's no body! I heard it from the mustache guy!"

That catches John's attention, "Are they sure?"

The boy shrugs, "I dunno."

"Helpful," he barely spares the children a second look as he follows the possible path the cat took, from outside of the blocked parameter. He sees a blur, a shadow, out of the corner of his eye, so he turns, but there's nothing there except people staring at the burnt house - the fire is almost completely put out now - and he walks to the other side, until he reaches that sidewalk and hears the cat, but he can't see him. He looks up, into a nearby tree, and sees the fur ball sitting on a tree branch next to someone he recognizes, sitting on the branch with his feet, crouched into the gravity-defying seating positions both angels, and fallen, are known by.

"Beelzebub."

"Lucifer."

"It seems Lilith did not take my request under advisement after all, though you should know better than to test me. I take it my departure has caused your wisdom to diminish?"

"Not at all," he smiles, his blonde curls adorning his cherub-like face, "I volunteered to stay, and I have only taken orders from the generalissimus, which isn't and will never be Lilith. No offense to your last will and testament," Beelzebub smiles, his boyish countenance making him look more like a child than he ever did, even if his body makes him look like an overgrown ape.

Lucifer doesn't smile, going right to business, "Where is she?"

His smiles disappears, "I don't know." Off Lucifer's stare, he sighs, "She had a visitor. No one I deemed a threat. Just a messenger from the upside of town." He furrows his brow, "After that, shit hit the fan. I had to move a few blocks to avoid detection. Lilith sent a group of them...but I don't think they started the fire. They looked almost as surprised by it as I was."

"Allison's visitor."Lucifer doesn't have to be a genius to figure that out.

"That's my bet," he agrees. "Whoever it was might've wanted to fake her death, or at least get her away before they could confirm her disappearance. It's weird. I could feel her presence and then, like that, it was gone, at the same time the fire started. It was very nicely done," he scratches his chin, impressed.

"No, this is careless," Lucifer looks at the scene - from the fire, he's guessing the fire started from downstairs. "It's a message."

Beelzebub quirks a brow, "For whom?"

"For me."

* * *

Allison feels herself pulling away from a dream she can't quite remember, feels her body ache and she's trying to open her eyes but she _really_ doesn't want to. It's like her entire body went through, well, a few walls and really fast, cold wind. She doesn't know how it happened because she couldn't open her eyes while it happened, but she could feel her body smashing against _something_ like a wall and the wind cutting her skin because she was moving so fast - so _cold._

She has her arms crossed across her chest and she moves them, feeling her arms, her stomach, her chest, her legs - everything is sore but nothing is really broken.

From the feel of it, she's in one piece.

One of her legs is dangling over something, she feels the ground - floor, cold - and on the side of her there's a panel, the back of a chair, no, a _pew._

She sits up when her nose picks up the familiar scent of incense, her ears recognize the solemn silence and she opens her eyes at last, seeing the cross in the middle of the temple.

She's in a church.

_Oh, crap_. She thinks. After what she's been up to for the past few days, this is the last place she wants to be.

Part of her Catholic guilt tells her she needs to stay, she needs to ask for so much forgiveness and probably confess a few - just a few? - sins.

She can't imagine what priest would listen to it: "Forgive me father for I have sinned. It's been a few lifetimes since my last confession, maybe two lifetimes, considering the one before that one hadn't really been sincere. I'm a nephalim, I've killed fallen angels, been responsible for the death of many and killed my own brother. Oh, and I'm in a very complicated relationship with the Prince of Darkness. I think you've heard of him. He's retired, though, but he's still an asshole. Sometimes.."

No, that's one trip to the mental hospital she wants to avoid.

She stands up, looking around, seeing candles and beautiful stained glass windows, but no people, which is odd, considering the day. What day is it? How long has she been asleep?

"Too long," a voice answers behind her. She's afraid to turn around, she doesn't recognize the voice, but it knows her mind and for some reason, she knows she shouldn't look - for some reason, she doesn't want to look. She sits back down and rests her back against the pew. Her heart is drumming like a humming bird in her chest and tears are swelling in her eyes, but she cannot explain _why_. She just knows she's terrified.

"I had hoped...that upon my death, man would wear my sacrifice as a beacon of faith, forgiveness and kindness, yet many wear it as shame, punishment, giving themselves turmoil over peace. My intent was not simply to spare you from the wrath of my Father, but from your own wrath, your pain...yet, you continue to grow it. You must know that it must end."

"Yes," she cries. How can she even dream to argue?

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No," she closes her eyes, trembling, trying to make the tears stop.

"Neither do I," at that, she opens her eyes, "however, I have faith that whatever road lies before you is the one you're meant to take, for you are His child, and He makes no mistakes. Every action you've ever taken, every choice you've yet to make, He knows. He understands. He forgives you." She's covering her mouth now. "Go with strength, Allison, for it is not yourself you are protecting anymore. You are protecting your world, your people, your beloved, although misguided, angel, and your unborn child."

Her heart skips a beat.

_No..._

"You should remain here. They cannot sense you while you're here. You will wait until the sound of the horn ends...and then, Allison, then you will have to be strong, for you know what will happen next."

Her mind is spinning so fast with information, she thinks she might pass out. Her unborn child? Someone's looking for her? A horn...? No, a trumpet. _The_ trumpet.

_Oh, God,_ she thinks, and she feels his hand on her shoulder and suddenly, it stops. She's not crying, she's not hurting, she's not _anything_. She feels so much peace...

"This is the Prophecy as it had been meant to exist, like a thief in the night, unexpected, even from you," there's a hint of a smile she can hear and she can't be affected by it.

When his hand leaves her shoulder, the terror sinks in again. How could she have been so stupid? When John told Allison, she should've reacted with less of a 'Jesus Christ saw you off and told you I was waiting?' and more of a 'The Bible says that the next appearance of the son of God would be as a man, not a child, and that would be the sign...of the End of Days.'

Before she can process, before she can't try find something - a phone? Who is she going to call? - she hears it, the trumpet, and it makes everything tremble in response.

She puts her hand over her stomach, but there's nothing there - is there? - but she knows it because he told her and he wouldn't lie, not to her, not about this.

It's the Apocalypse, and she was too busy playing house with Lucifer to realize, they walked right into it, blindly.

She's been Lucifer's distraction, she kept him from ending the world, but now it's worse...he's not the devil, she can't simply stop it by asking, and he's lost his place in Hell, and Heaven...Heaven cannot get involved. It's just her now. Her and Lucifer, if she can find him, and this baby...

She has to save them somehow, she has to stop it...but how?

* * *

**Author's Afterwords: **Um, I feel like I should apologize. This is where the story had been going all along in my head, yes, though the events weren't intended to unfold so quickly...I thank you all for staying through this with me and for being brave enough to thread on when not even I know my limits, or where I'm going. It's about to get much darker, a bit more twisted and complicated; our heroine and her unconventional knight are about to find themselves separated in ways they're not even aware of but, somehow, they'll have to stay together...


	6. Chapter 5 - Aching to be Found

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** This chapter was so much fun to write, which sounds disturbing, considering the content. I should warn that this one has some icky stuff (I would rate it R), being the end of the world, there's going to be creatures, demons and some gory violence but I'll try to be a little less explicit for the sake of some (mainly me), but still, felt I should warn you.

* * *

**Chapter 5. **Aching to be Found**  
**

* * *

_There's a certain kind of lover  
Makes you question who you are  
Makes you hand over your powers  
Leave a bulging heart-shaped scar_

**"****Madness****" Maria Mena  
**

* * *

When Lucifer hears the trumpet, the hairs on the back of his neck stand and he turns around, eyes wide, looking at the sky.

Any mere mortal would've just seen sky, with beams of light shining through, like rays of the sun, and brighter speckles of light traveling through those rays like the sun's very own kaleidoscope. Lucifer knows it's better than that.

"Well, I'll be damned," so does Beelzebub, as he, too, looks up.

"Yes, we are," Lucifer retorts until he finds the center of the light. That's what the mortals, even those who are rising, will not be able to discern with their human eyes.

The son of God is bringing them home, but more than that, he's taking them away from the battlefield.

"So it begins." Lucifer is behaving calmly but inside, his mind, it's a whirlwind. As the devil, he tried to beckon an early Apocalypse, anything, really, that would give him the upper hand; as long as he remained who he was, he could control the outcome to his benefit. Now? He has lost his position and his followers, he is, quite literally, damned, and he has no idea where Allison is.

"I have to find her," he locks eyes with Beelzebub, knowing full-well that in seconds, the world would start to come apart and chaos would ensue. He's taking the souls of the dead with Him first, then He will be taking souls from the living, and once that light dies...once that is done, every demon and follower of the now Mistress of Darkness will be crawling over the earth and he _knows_ she'll be trying to find him _and_ her. If Lucifer knows anything is that Lilith is probably as troubled as he is, for even he knows how this story ends, and she will do everything in her power to make sure there is no Second Coming. While he doesn't care about that particular problem, he does care what his role, and more importantly, what Allison's role may be.

"Wait," Beelzebub grabs his arm before he can turn into the wind, to disappear until he finds her. "If this is happening, we have to be prepared, Lucifer." His grip tightens, "General, you have followers. We have weapons. We've been preparing from the moment she told us of your death." That catches him by surprise. Beelzebub grins, "What can I say? You've always been my personal Jesus. I knew you'd be back and we're ready. Look, Allison wasn't taken by them, so, wherever she is, I'm sure she's safer than being with us at the moment."

That makes Lucifer look up, at the light, a sudden curiosity hitting him but he shakes his head. He knows better than that. Allison wouldn't be one of the souls reaped...she won't be so lucky and, he has a feeling that neither will he.

* * *

The trumpet stopped hours ago, which should've made her feel better, but what came after had been _much_ worse.

She had heard screaming, the earth itself had trembled - earthquakes - she heard loud sounds, almost like explosions, and at times, she could see shadows walking over the stained-glass windows, like giant bugs searching for something - for _her_, maybe.

At one point, she found herself brave enough to open a door she had locked because of a foreign couple that were begging to be let in - they might've been speaking Chinese, but she wasn't familiar with the dialect to know for sure. They were young, in their late twenties, possibly, and Allison had let them in only to notice a wounded, homeless man on the church steps. She then took the scenery in and it cost her valuable time. While she centered her attention on the buildings on fire, the streets littered with trash, cars crashed against one another, the sky clouded with a smokey, red darkness... one of those not-so-little bug-like creatures made its way inside the church.

That's when she had heard the girl scream.

She had had no time to make a grab at the homeless man. She had been forced to make a choice, so she made a run for the inside of the church, seeing the creature - more like a giant spider with a long head supported by an even longer neck and claws, six of them - about to attack the young man who stood between it and the woman. As soon as her foot had hit the doorway, the creature caught fire, a sudden shrill filling the silence, and the young couple fell to the ground in fear, crawling away from its ashes, as Allison stood there, staring at the pile of ash, but she didn't have the luxury of waiting.

She looked behind her after hearing a hoarse scream. There was another creature outside, this time devouring the homeless man, and she saw as the man's flesh was pulled away from its skeleton, she could hear it even, see how the body shook and cried under its teeth, and when the creature lifted its gruesome head, she saw it didn't have a face, not really. It didn't even have eyes. It only had a mouth, just a mouth, a creature only meant to devour, to punish, to strike fear into her heart.

Without another thought, she slammed the door closed and rested her head against the wood, tears in her eyes.

She left him there to die. She didn't save him.

That had been hours ago.

Now? She's just sitting in one of the pews, waiting, unsure of what she's supposed to do.

She's had a lot of time to think - and that, in itself, is a problem.

The Chinese couple look at her like a bad omen - why wouldn't they, if her very presence made creatures like that light up like a barbecue? - but they're too grateful to cause her any harm or disturb her silence.

Allison thinks back to Simon...he knew this would happen, he must've known all along. He knew the only safe place for her - for her child - would be a church, but she can't just stay here.

People are dying. She knows those people weren't saved for a reason, the unforgiven, but that makes little difference to her. A life is a life, and like a wise man once told her, God makes no mistakes.

_Then why is He doing this?_ She bites her lip, punishing herself for the moment of self-doubt, but she is only human after all. Worse than that, she's someone too familiar with this world - not just with the Bible, but angels; she's met them, she's been a tool for their games, and this...this feels like one of them. It has to be. She's a nephalim, one which they have no problem using, taking her away from the things she wants, just because of the things she can do, the things she's willing to do...suddenly, it dawns on her.

She's a nephalim. She's half-angel. Her kind can thread over waters that angels can't, they had told her once. She can walk the earth while they have their little party in heaven...she can save them. She can help save them all, somehow.

Her decision is made. She walks around the church looking for paper, cardboard, anything she can write in, and markers. She finds something better. Paint. She feels bad, for a second, because it means she's about to desecrate the church doors.

She then has to think, what can she write that will attract people? She has to write something, anything, but nothing that attracts the _wrong_ kind of attention. So far, she knows no demon can walk into the church while she's in it, but that doesn't mean they can't find someway to cause harm. She doesn't want to risk it...but she also wants John to find her.

How?

It takes her a while to make up her mind, and when she does, she starts collecting the materials and putting them closer to the door. To her surprise, the young man approaches her first and introduces himself.

His name is Brian, his friend is Hannah, both very English-sounding names, but their accents are true, and she's just happy they can speak.

"Thank you for saving us. We were scared, we did not know what happened."

"Well, Brian, how well do you know," she almost says your, but stops herself. They may not exactly be Bible-friendly, but regardless of religion, most of them stem from the same root. They probably understand enough, but she still decides to be mindful. The last thing she wants to do is offend anyone, which is hilarious, considering it's the Apocalypse and she's minding her etiquette. "The Bible. The Rapture?" The man's pale face tell her enough. "Yeah, it's real, that was a demon, there's probably more coming and it's going to get much worse. I'm..." How much does she want to tell him? "I'm part of a group of people," not lying, she tells herself. She's not lying. "We're not really human, not at all demonic, not all that angelic, just...different, and we have the ability to help people. While I stay inside this church, I can help you. They can't hurt you but I need to help others, the ones stuck outside, who have no idea of what's going on or how to help themselves...and it would mean a lot if you helped me."

The way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat tells her he might not be as willing as she had been hoping, "Look, you don't have to do a lot. Just keep an eye out the door and tell me if any demons are coming around. All I have to do is run in and we're good. The less time I spend outside, the better."

"Then it is best if we both paint." The girl speaks up.

"Hannah," the man objects, almost cross, "You can't."

"We must. She is right. People need help. We both paint, we can make it quicker."

Allison decides she likes the girl, "One door at a time? Keep one open for surveillance."

Hannah nods, "How many words?"

Allison looks at the doors, thoughtful. They're double doors, they open towards the outside, which is unfortunate, but not out of the ordinary for church doors. The width is enough for what she decided on. It's cryptic enough that it shouldn't single her out but, if by chance, John walked by and read the words, maybe, just maybe, he can find her.

"Nine," she answers, decidedly.

After all, it's only fitting.

* * *

Lucifer has to admit, he is impressed. Beelzebub has been greatly underestimated by Lilith, then again, so had he. Mephistopheles and Lilith had always been very serious on how they assisted him in overtaking Heaven. Beelzebub? He enjoyed having fun on his way there, always following orders, of course, but he didn't mind the little tasks...it made him popular in many circles, especially when he went easy on those he had to punish - granted, he _did_ punish them, but he made it enjoyable, to a degree, mostly for himself.

And, out of respect, and gratitude, many would not repeat the same crime twice.

His methods, while not always preferred by his superiors, were still very much effective.

Lucifer is surprised at the amount of followers Beelzebub has gathered, all faithful to him, though even Lucifer has a hard time believing that. Just as he fell betraying Him, fallen have been known to betray one another...take Belial, for example, a lesson he never quite forgot.

They have a map hanging off a wall, in a room that used to belong to some wealthy farmers, now that they have taken over their entire plantation. Granted, they had to slaughter the entire family, including the animals, to make it seem like it was just business as usual. No other Fallen should think they're up to anything traitorous and all those Fallen who have already been singled out as opposed to the current rule are kept out of view, and some even volunteered to try and find Allison for him without letting the object of the search be known to anything outside of their little group, of course.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but that bitch took out Russia." Beelzebub is looking at the map, marking the affected areas of the planet that have been either obliterated or completely occupied.

"Well, when the President tries to go nuclear before the first course, you kind of have to show him who's really the chef in charge," Azazel murmurs, hiding half a smile, and Beelzebub grins in response. Azazel, always a charmer, had been a close follower of Lucifer though his tasks often kept him away from the group. After all, Lucifer often encouraged his escapades into the mortal world, charming mortal women, tempting them with tools of magick, _dark_ magick, and being responsible for some of the burnings in the Salem Witch Trials. He had, at times, been mistaken as Lucifer, being tall, with dark, luscious hair, and devilishly handsome, but not quite as determined - he would sometimes get off-track and distracted by the very mortals whose souls he had been commissioned to obtain.

"This means she's too occupied to keep her eyes on us," Eligor states, drawing lines on places that have been confirmed torture houses - whatever humans haven't been killed, have been captured and are being used, in many twisted ways. Eligor had been on the wrong side during the war, not that he believed it, but it was the wrong side because it was the losing one. Eligor had never been quite as evil as the rest of them, not twisted, but simply determined to win, strategic, although as a reward, Lucifer did let him roam the earth as a knight for decades during the Dark Ages. His gratitude over that cemented his loyalty, to say the least, which had been exactly what Lucifer had hoped. He himself brought Eligor in, only because of his capability to choose a winning side, but Eligor did not choose his side by himself, and that alone meant Lucifer was responsible for his fall in more ways than he cares to admit.

"Wrong," Lucifer sighs, "she knows where I am. She placed me here, just as she placed Allison."

"That just makes it interesting," Beelzebub smiles, "and easier for us to find Allison first."

"Assuming she's still on this plane," Eligor puts his hands in his pockets, "No one has been able to sense her."

"She could be cloaked," Azazel suggests, being the one familiar with many realms of what mortals refer to as magic, or magick to those that practice it in great detail.

"Which reminds me," Beelzebub interrupts the topic by bringing in a bowl of something that smells absolutely rotten. He hands it to Lucifer who touches it unimpressed. He quirks a brow, waiting, "While we smell just like any fallen would, nothing of interest, you, my friend, smell like the former Prince of Darkness. You may have handed down a legacy but you're still what none of us ever were. You're a fallen arch."

"In other words," Azazel tries to sound serious, but the way his eyes shine makes it evident he's never been serious. "You reek more than the rest of us."

"We believe that, by hiding some of that decaying flesh in your pockets, it might mask who you are but you'd still be seen as one of us," Eligor explains.

Lucifer nods. It makes sense. He has worn many faces in the past, though none as frequent as this one - the face Allison fell in love with. Is that why he has kept it for so long?

A knock on the door brings the room to silence and Beelzebub nears the door, only to find a paper slipped under it.

He had given an order they were not to be disturbed as, even though they are a rebel group, fighting against Lucifer's choice of Lilith, they had decided to leave out the fact that Lucifer is still with them. Only the selected few knew. Even Lucifer, later found out, that even though he had been to visit Lilith, no one in hell knew about that short meeting, nor that he owed her a _debt_. The less anyone knew, the better.

"Anything interesting?" Azazel asks, bored.

"No...just basic reports. Damn, a bar full of mortals was devoured by none other than your favorite," Beelzebub locks eyes with John, "Belial. Officially out and about. And according to this, some people are being stupid enough to stay inside their homes, like that's going to help."

Lucifer knew no amount of walls and bricks could keep a demon out, even when uninvited, but it would buy some time...very little, depending on the person's faith. Most demons would deem that as an opportunity to play with people's minds, destroy their faith, allow them to rip each other to shreds - for what is a challenge if not an opportunity to find a different way to achieve one's goals?

Demons, while evil, are very resourceful.

"...lost sheep? They'll find themselves in a slaughterhouse soon enough," Eligor shook his head at the last thing Beelzebub had read, which Lucifer had missed, thinking to himself of the resourcefulness of his demons and what that might mean for Allison, for humanity, as a whole. Sheep. Isn't that what he always called them?

"What was that about sheep?" Lucifer put the bowl down on the table, eyes on Beelzebub, waiting.

"Oh, one of the fallen saw a church with a bible verse written on the doors. Well, a line," Beelzebub corrects himself.

"Actually, it's a parable. One of his famous little stories," Azazel mocks, with a child-like voice full of wonder.

"Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep." Eligor repeats it, looking over at Lucifer curiously, and Beelzebub doesn't need him to explain it. His brows are furrowed, too.

"You really think so?" Beelzebub looks at Lucifer for an answer.

Lucifer nods, "Could be. Did the fallen report sensing any life signs? Nephalim life signs?"

Beelzebub looks over at the paper, "No...although he did say he got close enough to count them. When he first saw the church, he smelled two humans. Then more started coming...they let them in." That made Azazel quirk a brow. Usually, in these situations, someone asks for help, not many are keen on helping...survival of the fittest, after all, and the possibility of it being a trick is always there. "The church is pretty much intact. No broken windows. He also reports that it seems protected somehow...and something even more interesting. When he left to report to Ornias, he saw six people through the open door, but he had only sensed five."

"Maybe one of them is cloaked," Azazel offers.

"Who did the report," Lucifer asks.

"Raum," Beelzebub answers, "And according to the report, he's requesting to go back to watch the place. He finds it curious, too."

"Perhaps we should join him," Lucifer opens the bowl of flesh and starts pocketing a few pieces.

If he is to find Allison, he has to remain undetected by others...he simply hopes he finds her before Lilith does.

* * *

**Author's Afterwords:** Did I mention how much fun this chapter was to write? I like the fallen. Actually (and, again, apologies to anyone who may be very religious), I like the fallen a lot, because their fault lies in being too human (angels shouldn't envy, desire or want, but _they_ do) and, as a human being, I could totally hang with them. I'd probably stop at the destroying, killing and such, but that's just a matter of morality, really. And I may not be Christian, but I did go to bible school when I was young and that parable always was one of my favorites. I did do some research on the apocalypse, and as much as we know from the bible itself, there are different interpretations of it, so I took some liberties as well (too many, perhaps...) so remember, this is purely fictional, I am not Nostradamus, so don't worry if I don't follow the rules of the Apocalypse to the letter (since I avoided going too in-depth. Again, impressionable mind, I really don't want to start having nightmares again...)


	7. Chapter 6 - Finding Lost Sheep

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** First, I want to say how much it all of your kind words mean to me, and that you're enjoying the fanfic thus far. I appreciate reviews, though I seldom ask for them, because it means you liked it enough to want to say something and share with me your thought and opinions. These characters were all voices in my head and trying to tame it into words, sometimes I wanted to give up, but I'm glad I didn't. And to **XinnLajgin**, I completely agree and, again, without (hopefully) offending anyone overly religious, there difference between God and Lucifer, in my writing, is that God's angels love him because they must. They have no free will. They carry out the commands without question, with blind faith, and that's how He designs it. Lucifer is different to me; he has earned the loyalty and respect of the fallen because he, himself, is one of them; he's only above them in power and because he had been an arch (and I remember laughing in the 2nd movie when Gabriel got kicked out of hell-two archs clearly cannot co-exist there!) and I always found it odd (and maybe that's just me) that when Belial stepped out of line in the 4th movie, he just told him to come back home...he didn't cast him out or banish him. Heck, he wasn't even the one who pulled the trigger, Allison did, and it always did make me curious what kind of relationship he had with his fallen that made that him so different. It's those little details I enjoy from the movies, and that I try to expand on, without abusing it, I hope. Though, I will say, he's not as kind to his brethren anymore, as Allison has kind of changed him (I actually read over my past fanfics on these two the other day and, wow, Lucifer went from curious, to falling into temptation completely, which is hilarious, all things considered!)

Now, it should go without saying that this chapter, like many of the ones before, and the ones coming soon, is not for the faint of heart, and it will probably get a bit more haunting later. Depends on perspective, really. It doesn't help that my music selection has gone from Maria Mena, to the Jekyll and Hyde Soundtrack (the theater version) and soon, Lana Del Rey (whose songs, by the way, helped me write the rest of the chapters - her songs are perfectly dark and haunting, just what I needed to get in the mindset and courage needed to write this out). But, in the end, I think it's fitting, mood-wise, and being as it is the Apocalypse, well, it's not sunshine and puppies...though humor, that I can't do without, even (and especially) when it's inappropriate. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 6. **Finding Lost Sheep

* * *

_Good and evil -_  
_And their merits -_  
_Men have argued through history -_  
_As well they should!_  
_My philosophy_  
_Any child can see -_  
_"Good is evil -_  
_And therefore_  
_All evil is good"_  
**"Good 'N' Evil" Jekyll and Hyde Soundtrack**

* * *

Allison hasn't been able to save very many people - it's the Apocalypse outside, demons and fallen roaming free to do whatever they want without consequence, it's a miracle _she's_ still alive. Brian and Hannah found the church by chance. After they managed to paint the words on the church doors, with only one creature causing trouble - which they avoided by having Hannah run into the church to distract it and Allison to hide, then on Hannah's mark, Allison would come out from behind the door and inside, in time to have it burn to ashes again.

It had been a risk, but it had worked, as they now have three more people, whom Allison has gotten to know as well as anyone gets to know each other during times like these full of fear, distrust and grief.

Pete, the drug dealer, who has never been more alert and sober in his life, it seems, in his early thirties and a man of few words since he saw his wife and daughter disappear in front of his eyes. Allison had told him what happened, and although the man has very little faith, his tears had been honest, as he himself hopes that what Allison says is true...that his family is, in their own way, safe. He had seen the words on the door and hoped that he, too, could be found.

Laura and Kyle, brother and sister, had almost cut Allison when they first came in, thinking she was going to hurt them or, maybe, just because they're naturally violent. They had seen the words and thought there were people inside, people that could help. Allison doesn't know their story yet - she's not sure she wants to.

Brian and Hannah, with her from the start, a couple, do not believe in God, and Brian's father had been a corrupt lawyer who had his own arsenal of weapons. His father was the very reason they were alive. He had opened fire on any creature that got close and distracted them so that they could run away. They had a car, at first, but crashed it during one of the quakes and they had had weapons, but ran out of ammo while on the run. They saw the church and hoped...hoped that if there was a God, even if they didn't believe in one, that mercy would be something they could earn.

Allison saw, not a group of sinners, but a group of broken people, given the gift of free will, on a path of life that is never as easy as it seems. It's like raising a bull in the middle of a bullpen, with a matador at its side - how can you not expect man to turn into a sinner, when all around it is sin? Life itself is sin. That is why forgiveness exists, because it is something needed by all, and all have to earn it.

She's tried talking to them, but only Hannah and Brian are grateful to listen to her little stories. She tells them as much about her as she can, without betraying too much. So far, they know she's a nephalim - with as much as they've all seen thus far, it's not as insane saying it out loud. They know about the war between angels, they know about the book she protected, the anti-Christ's attempt at ruling the world that she somewhat stopped and how souls had been trapped, unable to ascend. She stopped that, too.

She doesn't tell them that in doing so she fell in love with the devil, she lost her brother, her second family, she let too many people die and now she's with child.

_His_ child.

No, _that_ she keeps to herself. It's not shame that keeps her from it, or regret, but _fear_. After being thought crazy once or twice in her life, she knows how people react to the truth, and right now, they don't need to know that aspect of the truth...it's personal, too personal, and if she's honest, it hurts, like an open wound, unable to heal because it's still bleeding...they are still tools of a grander scheme, unable to live the life they want.

She's managed to find food in the church. There isn't much to last very long, but enough for a week or so. Longer if they control themselves, if more people don't come.

When Allison can't find a can opener, the girl, Laura, helps by using her knife. It's a clumsy cut and it makes the lid harder to handle but they maneuver the food out and are able to at least curve the hunger.

It's late night - past midnight, she thinks - and it's too quiet.

They're all sleeping and Allison had volunteered to take first shift.

She doesn't need to sleep, not really, just as she doesn't need to eat, though she did anyway, for the baby. She figures, if she is pregnant - no ifs, she knows she is, because _he_ wouldn't lie about that - she needs to eat something, to keep it growing...though, how? How did it happen? She's been with him through two lifetimes. She never...he told her it was impossible. He could not have children, contrary to popular belief, though there were remedies to make him fertile - rituals, he called them - he never tried them because, well, he was not interested in being a parent. One of him is enough, he had said.

But what now? What changed?

She closes her eyes, her thoughts giving her the answers she needed.

He _died_.

Didn't he say he didn't know what happened to him? Or why he came back?

It wasn't for _her_. It was for this. For his unborn child.

She's caressing her stomach with her hands. If she is pregnant, it's only been a mere couple of days since they started having sex and, if she's honest with herself, she had been due to ovulate - she keeps a calendar. So, maybe, she's not pregnant _yet_, not in the literal sense - scientifically, it can take days - but when the son of God tells you you're pregnant, you just tell science to fuck off, because _he_ should know.

There hasn't been an explosion in some time and the silence keeps her alert - she can hear them breathing and at least two of them snore - but, at least, now, she can tell when something is going on.

Like the sound of a door creaking.

There's a shift in the darkness, a bright light coming through the small opening, and she stands from one of the pews, walking softly, trying to make as little noise as possible.

If it's another person, she doesn't want to startle anyone, or be attacked, like she almost was by Laura. But if it's a demon, it'll only turn to ash, so she's not as worried about that. Ironic, all things considered, that she be more afraid of the prospect of a mortal than a demon.

The door hasn't been completely open and it worries her. Her back is to the door that remains untouched, it's the other that's been partly open, revealing the shining light, too bright to be natural.

She hears murmurs, but can't decipher all the words.

"...not her scent."

Her breathing has gotten labored, her heart is making it hard to focus on their words, but those words she just picked up, they're _not_ normal.

_They can't come in_, she tells herself. _You're safe. You're all safe._

"Allison." She hears that. Her name. She hears _her_ name in _that_ tone and it's all she needs to hear. She moves towards the small opening from the door and sees _his_ eyes. She sees _him_, she _knows_ him somehow, even in this form, and she's terrified but, at the same time, she's _pissed_.

"Belial."

"Allison," Belial smiles, happy to be recognized, "My, my, how you've grown. You actually know me. I'm very impressed." Belial looks human, the kind of flesh bag you'd expect from a pimp or a really sketchy-looking landlord. She knows it's probably someone he killed, and now that the door is open, she can see the cars, the headlights shining their light on the church. Allison can also see a following of creatures and some fallen. No John.

"What do you want?"

"Why, you, of course." He smiles, almost cheerful. "I have to say, I am having a lot of fun. When Lilith said I could do whatever I wanted to this wonderful state, anything I wanted, so I could find you, well, you can imagine my delight. I did waste a few hours on some unproductive acts...I fucked a few bags of flesh. Fucked two of them to death while their friends watched." Belial laughs and Allison tries not to throw up. "I mean, it's been nice. It's been good. How about you? You're in a church. An impenetrable church," he observes, genuinely curious. "And look, you made some friends."

Allison looks behind her to notice Brian, Hannah and Pete are awake. Laura and Kyle are, too, but they're staying by the pews, a few feet away, whereas the others are standing right behind Allison in a defensive stance.

"You can't come in, and you can't touch us."

Belial tests the air in front of him, as his finger nears the doorway, he feels his skin sizzle.

"Hmm, I didn't know you had that kind of fire in you, nephalim," Belial spits the words out in a soft smile. "You," his eyes are set on Brian. "You act so noble, and yet, how many monkeys did you help your daddy get rid of? And you, you and your pretty face, you got a lot of monkeys killed, ruined a lot of lives, just to get your way, princess. And I like you best. Hmm, so much blood and money. I think I'll keep you," he licks his lips as he looks at Pete, who is not even in the least bit amused. "Oh, and I think I should tell you, I know where your wife is. Well, I know where she was. On my cock!"

Allison turns around immediately, ready to stop Pete from jumping on him, but it doesn't happen. Pete stares at Belial and laughs. He shakes his head, "I don't know you, fool, but you don't know my wife. My wife was my wife. She wouldn't get with a freak like you."

Allison smiles, facing Belial, "Nice try. Go back to your ring leader, Belial. Tell her I'm not for sale, I never have been, and I will find a way to end this, and when I do, she better have a damn good escape plan, because her head is the first one I'm coming after."

"Big words coming from a woman in hiding," Belial narrows his eyes. She can tell he wants to rip the skin off her body, piece by piece.

"Well, Allison has always been a woman of many big words." Before Allison can register who that voice belongs to, fire begins to consume each and every creature, until it's just the fallen, and once Belial turns around to assess the situation, arms shoot through each of their chest, pulsating hearts outside their bodies, held by hands that waste no time and simply squeeze.

Allison knows who has Belial's heart.

It's John...it's_ Lucifer_.

He found her.

Lucifer smiles, "Goodbye, Belial."

When their bodies fall, Allison doesn't think, doesn't wait, she just runs. She runs towards the man holding a heart in his hand and even though Hannah is still screaming, she holds on to him like he's her lifeline, and in a way, he always has been.

She feels his lips pressed on his head and it sends a thrill down her spine.

"Hello, little sheep," he murmurs in her ear, and she smiles.

"I hoped...I hoped you'd find me." She looks up at him and notices, to her left, a fallen getting closer to the church, telling Hannah to calm down and looking at Lucifer like they're all crazy for being there. When she looks to her right, she sees another fallen getting close...too close.

"Stop!" She yells and takes a few steps back under she's under the doorway. "You can't come here." She tries to collect herself and turns to Hannah and the others. Something else hits her, a putrid smell. She covers her nose with her hand, "What is that smell?"

"It's best if you don't ask," Lucifer sighs.

"Who the hell are they?" Pete asks behind her.

"They're fine. I know...him," she's not going to lie. She has no idea who the others area, though one of them looks vaguely familiar - wasn't he one of the fallen Lucifer had assigned to watch her? She never did get to ask him. "He came for me. He's..." She knows calling Lucifer not evil will probably be the same as emasculating him. She makes a face when she notices his smile and quirked brow. Oh, he's loving the fact she can't say what he _is_ and what he _isn't. _

"He's my lover." That is as honest as it's going to get. "And he just saved our lives, so did they, however, I can't just trust you with their lives and you can't come in while I'm here."

"Why not?" Lucifer and Pete ask at the same time, making Pete look at Lucifer suspiciously while Lucifer remains amused.

"Because they're fallen angels." There. She said it. "But just like there are good angels and bad angels, just like there are good people and bad people, there are..."

"Don't, please, don't," the overgrown ape-like fallen begs, "As his woman, I won't kill you, but if you call me good, I'll have to kill myself."

"Good one, Beelzebub," the one with the beautiful mane of hair smiles, and winks, making her feel a little uncomfortable given the circumstances.

"Azazel." Lucifer warns, then sighs, "We are not here to kill you, and that should be enough." Allison knows he's speaking to the others. "We are here for her, because Allison usually has the misfortune of being the one with the power to stop evil things and, well, we kind of want to stop a very dangerous evil thing."

"If you're fallen," Pete crosses his arms, "like demons and shit, don't you want to do evil things?"

"He's right," Azazel confesses, "I want to do lots of evil things. In bed. With that one." He points at Hannah this time, making Brian have her stand behind him.

"I need not explain myself to you, mortal," and this is when John becomes Lucifer, when he starts growing a few inches taller and Allison swears, like this, he's still very much the Prince of Darkness. "For now, my interests and yours are the same, to save your pitiful world so that she may live in it, and while she lives, I will protect that which she holds dear. That is why she will be coming with me. That is why I won't kill you. Any harm comes to her, your lives are forfeit."

Allison swallows, tears in her eyes, not because of what he said, no, but because of what it means, and why she's probably with child...

_God really is a sick bastard,_ she thinks, shuddering.

"I can't leave." She murmurs, and surprisingly, it is heard by everyone.

"This is not the time to be a martyr. Do you need a reminder of how that usually ends?" He is getting impatient, she knows, and the others are starting to be respectful enough to disperse, not wanting to witness a lover's spat when it comes to their "General", and they're disposing of the bodies, which Allison will thank them for, eventually.

She really doesn't want to say the next part out loud. "Do you remember who you saw? When you came back?" Lucifer nods, curious as to where she's going with this. "I saw him, too, here, after I saw Simon. Simon brought me here. He knew what was going to happen. He probably knew they were coming for me. Then he...the other one...he told me to stay in the church. He told me I'd be safe as long as I stayed here, they can't find me. It's because I'm a nephalim. It has to be."

The expression on his face tells her he's not at all pleased with the messenger responsible for placing her here, or the message, for that matter. "Allison, you're not safe. Not with them. If you were alone, I'd have less of a problem with the idea of you hiding while I ensure your safety, but with them inside, any demon with the proper skill could possess their minds, their bodies, and influence them to kill you. You'd be dead before you could even defend yourself. You're safer with me."

She closes her eyes, trying not to grind her teeth, "Find another nephalim."

"Do you really believe an army of nephalims will stop what's coming? This is much greater than that," Lucifer looks at her as if she'd grown another head and when he himself comes close enough to let his fingers touch the doorway, to prove to her she's _insane_, he feels something, a barrier of some kind that makes him stop, his eyes confused.

Allison lifts her chin, slightly, now confident and relieved that he has no choice but to believe her and do as she says, for once. "You told me once, you looked for me, you found other nephalims on the way. I'm not the only one. If you're going to save the world, I want to save it with you, and we can do that if we find nephalims and have them in different churches, keeping people safe. My presence here is keeping these people safe."

"You are a self-sacrificing fool," he mutters exasperated.

"I can't just sit here and hide, alone, while everyone else worth saving dies!"

"They would not still be here if they were worth saving!" He yells, "They would be up there, with Him, if He considered them worth saving, but they're not! They're rapists, killers, liars and thieves," he smiles, bitterly. "They're my sort and, some time ago, I would've welcomed them with open arms, but it's not up to me, not anymore." And he swallows, knowing fully who's to blame for that. "Allison, you are speaking of saving them from an inevitable fate, you speak of them as if they are good. They are not good. They're rotten and useless sheep, that is what you're sacrificing yourself for."

She shakes her head, "No, I'm trying to save people like me. I've killed. I've lied. I am far from perfect but I sought forgiveness, I've tried to be good, and the only weakness I have, the only weakness I've ever had, is you, but I'm choosing sides. If you make me, I choose this side. I choose to fight, to protect our unborn child."

The silence lasts only a few seconds, but it is heavy, heavy on all of them, and even the other fallen have stopped what they are doing long enough to stare.

"How?" Lucifer's face is serious, devoid of all emotion.

"The son of God told me," she laughs, finally saying his identity out loud, no longer hiding the madness of it all, tears in her eyes, "I'm pregnant. And I'm pretty sure that's why they brought you back...Lilith wants this baby. I can feel it. I don't know why or how, but they must've known I would be useful to them somehow. Why else did they keep me safe? They kept me alive for you. She could've killed me to get back at me, to get back at you, and I always thought she wanted to, badly. That's why I always wondered why she never did." At this point, she's rambling, because she just told her boyfriend - is that what he is? - she's pregnant. How many lifetimes? How many crazy scenarios before them, how many obstacles, and not once did they think a baby would be part of the mix, partly because he couldn't have children and she was afraid insanity is something the baby would inherit. She didn't want to take the risk. Now, they have no choice.

"Allison," Lucifer finally speaks, and his voice is calm, his face is calm, it's too calm. "I'll find a nephalim, I'll bring it back, I'll tell others to seek out nephalims and keep them alive, long enough for this war to be over, for there to be survivors, and let them learn to survive on their own if they're worthy. But mark my words, when I return, you will come with me, I will make the decisions to ensure your safety, I will kill anyone that tries to touch you, and you will have nothing to say on the matter. Is that understood?"

"I make no promises," her smile is small, but it's there, and he echoes it.

Allison takes a step forward, standing inches from the doorway, for a kiss, just one last kiss, and it would've lasted longer had she a say in the matter but she had been pushed back, by Lucifer - caught by Pete - and then they were gone, disappeared, and the only evidence she had to say that he had ever been there exists only on her lips.

She gathers herself, looking behind her, and she tries to smile as she asks, "Okay, who gets the first question?"

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** This is normally how I like my writing, to write without having any idea as to where I'm going, and that's exactly how I wrote this chapter. Truth be told, I had a plan when I started writing this chapter, but it went off on its own, which I think is a good thing. Their (the characters) surprise, is my surprise, and that, to me, is really fun. One thing I admire from Allison, she doesn't really love angels - not anymore, I think - or the good side, but she is still good for the sake of being good, because she wouldn't punish people who aren't to blame for the way management is run, so to speak...at least, that's how I see it, and it makes her so foolish in Lucifer's eyes, but it makes her love her more, because when he fell, he lost all hope, every single shred, yet she...she still has it, even after everything. It's kind of a wonder. I have so many theories and they tend to change, from time to time, mainly because of the many perspectives around things, but still, thought-provoking, I enjoy it!


	8. Chapter 7 - I Let Myself Fall

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note: ** After the previous chapter, you might be asking yourselves if I'm sane. Evidently, you haven't been reading these long enough, because I am anything but sane. With that in mind, I do hope you enjoy this chapter...I do kind of tug at theories and details about the Apocalypse which may, or may not, be accurate, but as I said (and repeat just for the sake of clarification), I am taking a few liberties, because of my theories on the concept of "destiny". Well, on one hand, if life is meant to unfold one way, as written, then why do we have free will? Is it really free will if every action taken has been predetermined? Food for thought, and something as complex as trying to figure out which came first, the chicken or the egg (which reminds me of a fun quote I read once, "I dream of a better world where chickens can cross roads without having their motives questioned." Giggle.)

* * *

**Chapter 7. **I Let Myself Fall

* * *

_Every time I close my eyes_  
_It's like a dark paradise_  
_No one compares to you_  
_I'm scared that you_  
_Won't be waiting on the other side_

_All my friends ask me why I stay strong_  
_Tell 'em when you find true love it lives on_  
_Ahhh, that's why I stay here_

**"Dark Paradise" Lana Del Rey**

* * *

Lucifer waits until they're at a distance, the church still in his view, and he stops to stare behind him. His eyes darken. He knows this is just another game - one of _H__is_ games - and he doesn't enjoy not knowing, being a pawn by extension; Allison is His pawn and He must've known he wouldn't just leave her alone, especially not now.

He can't _sense_ her but he knows she's there - saw her, felt her and _smelled_ her - and that's what he hadn't told Allison.

"Beelzebub," he calls the name of his now right hand, who is not quite himself at the moment. Normally, when you hear someone fathered a child, words of congratulations follow or, in their case, they would be making fun of him just for giggles and Lucifer would join them with the usual sarcasm, but they know better. This is not a gift or even a joke. This is a weakness. This is another way to bring him down - how further down could he go? Lucifer knows he owes everything - _everything _\- to Beelzebub, to Azazel, to every fallen that risks Lilith's wrath by following _him_, by helping _him_, even if his needs - his concerns - revolve around who means very little to them. They're loyalty to him...it will not be overlooked. He will reward them someday...somehow. He will pay them back, even if it's with his own life.

"We're not going to find a nephalim, are we?" Beelzebub stands beside him, finally, looking at the church, with his hands in his pockets.

Lucifer's eyes remain locked on the church, "We are, but not for the reasons she wants them. Beelzebub, I need you to swear an oath to me."

"Anything," Beelzebub is solemn, which is saying a lot, all things considered.

"You will protect her at all costs, even if the cost of that is my life."

"Lucifer," he sighs, threading his words carefully, "you're asking me to forsake my general for the sake of a nephalim who wouldn't pull me out of a burning building even if she was invulnerable to fire."

That makes Lucifer chuckle, "Truth is, she probably would, unless she thought you my enemy, or hers. She's very forgiving, that one," she forgave him...for things his Father never would. "And foolish. This is why I, as your general, ask this of you, to save the one creature on this earth who can see the monsters and still find a redeemable quality in them."

"In you," Beelzebub corrects, and he clears his throat when Lucifer gives him a glaring look. "Look, fine, I get it, she's...different. Hell, the fact Lilith wants to skin her alive with her teeth tells me she's someone I probably want to share my Cheetos with, but kill you, for her? That's asking for a lot and I'll be damned, pun intended, if I lie, 'cause then you'd probably kill me back."

Lucifer smiles, "That is why I have chosen you, Beelzebub," and Beelzebub rolls his eyes, but he continues, "You are one of the few that understand, and often does not contest, the concept of **fall back**. You've complained, whined and questioned me many times, but you've never done anything that I did not ask of you. I ask you again, brother, even if protecting her means killing me, swear to me that you will do whatever it takes to protect her and that child, for if she dies, and I live to discover that you could've prevented it...I will take no pleasure in destroying you, and everything in my path."

Beelzebub holds Lucifer's stare for what seems like too long until he sighs, his eyes closed, accepting the inevitable - Lucifer would not let him walk away from this, not this. "What if I have to choose between the woman and the baby?"

He had been expecting that question - dreading it, really. Allison would never forgive Lucifer if he has any hand on the death of their child, if he has any hand on doing anything _but_ protecting it. He has never understood why any person would be so protective over someone they had never met, someone they had only been responsible for creating - though he, himself, has experienced something similar with Allison, if he's honest. If it comes down to choosing...between Allison and their unborn child, would he choose? Could he?

People create many things, but for a child, a mother is capable of destroying an entire universe in return for the life of her child. He, himself, had never been the creating type, simply the corrupting kind. This...this is unfamiliar territory, in spite of many who believed otherwise, and his urge to protect Allison...and the urge to protect something they _both_ created...

Would he let her live and condemn the child, or condemn himself, and Allison, by letting her go, and letting the unborn live?

"For both of our sakes," he decides finally, "make sure you don't have to make that choice."

"And if I do?" Beelzebub is not going to let him walk from it and, in truth, he can't blame him. In war, anything can be lost, as much as gained, and you have to know what lines you're willing to cross..._all of them_. But, for all he knows, this child is a tool, to be used against them both, to decide the fate of either heaven or hell, or both; should he forsake the one thing that made his existence something more than his damnation for something that could decide the outcome of a war - a war that is no longer his to run?

He turns, ready to walk away from the church, and he answers, "Let **her** make the choice...and if she can't, save **her**."

* * *

Allison didn't think they'd want her help after what just happened - in truth, after what just happened, even _she_ didn't want to be with herself - but, to her surprise, they didn't judge her.

They are too busy happy to be alive, to be on her side of things.

Even Laura looks at her differently now, with some shred of respect and curiosity, although Allison doesn't think she's had a chance to earn the former.

Pete, Brian and Hannah have asked their fill of questions and now keep at a distance, praying, and she wonders if they pray for her soul or just theirs.

She hopes for both.

Allison told them everything - _everything_ \- and she knows, in their eyes, she's probably now earned the role of the most _damned_ of them all.

She notices Laura getting up from her pew - Kyle's probably asleep, she thinks, as she doesn't see him, he could just as easily have laid down on the pew - and she's walking towards her. Allison feels for the knife Pete gave her - she stuck it in her bra - reminding herself she's not defenseless. She never has been.

Laura is a beauty, without a doubt, but she's a street beauty, short, dressed like she's fearless, with stylish short jeans and a shirt with only one sleeve. She looks like she just got out of a nightclub - she might've been, for all Allison knows - and she's barefoot as the moment Allison first saw her. Maybe heels during the Apocalypse isn't the most comfortable of footwear.

When Laura stops next to the pew Allison is sitting on, Allison turns her head, meeting her eyes, "Are you okay?"

Laura nods, arms crossed, hugging herself almost, and she sits down on the opposite end of the pew. She's looking ahead, looking at the cross, at the art depicting heaven in such a way that, well, depresses many in their circumstances because _they_ didn't make it.

"I used to think I was so badass," Laura mutters, her eyes still focused ahead. "I've done things. Bad things. Just to get people to like me. I've fucked with people. I've fucked people. I stopped going to church when I was a kid, rebelled against my parents so to speak, been fucked up ever since. Kyle's the only thing that kept me from going too far, sometimes. And now..."

"Now you wish it would've been different, because now you're scared He'll never forgive you," Allison finishes the thought for her.

"Actually, I was going to say, now I've met someone who's done worse than me. You fucked the devil."

Allison turns her head so sharply, it almost snaps, and Laura's chuckle is the only thing telling her that was her idea of a poor joke. Allison doesn't smile, she just reigns in her temper. She doesn't want to tempt fate and give the girl a cause to lose her head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Laura apologizes, sensing her mistake, "I...I guess what I really want to ask, how...how did you fall in love with **him**?"

Allison swallows, feeling her throat dry up immediately. That is a really good question. She rests one hand on her stomach as her heart beats, reminding her of all the reasons why.

"You went to church, right?"

The girl nods, "Until I was sixteen. After that, my mom couldn't keep forcing me," Laura admits.

Allison smiles at that, "J-" She almost says his name, the wrong name - the name she wishes _was_ his only name, but she has to face the truth...there never was a John, only in her mind. She corrects herself, "Lucifer has always been said to have been the most beautiful angel in heaven. I'll never tell him...oh, he probably knows," she sighs. "It was one of my favorite stories as a kid because even the most beautiful of angels, the most perfect of creations, can fall...it makes him human, to me." She realizes, then, this is the first time she's been able to speak of Lucifer with anyone, in all it's absurd truth, without judgment. Laura isn't Gabriel or Michael or Simon. She's just another person, another human being, kind of like what she used to be before she found out...the lie. "I don't think there's any rational way to explain how I fell in love with him. I can tell you how we met, how he just watched me as I became a tool for angels, fighting the battles heaven won't dirty their hands with, how I dreamt about him night after night and how, somehow, he became the only one I trusted, the only one that told me the truth, who used me and had no issues telling me what his intentions were, no scruples...in the end, what he wanted from me was just _me_, and what he wanted from me, I gave. I think I have always loved him, in spite of the horrible truths he showed me,_ because _he showed me truths in a lifetime of lies. I just...fell."

"Do you think...I mean, is there forgiveness for loving the devil?"

Allison turns to look at her, and Laura is looking at her now, curious, and she wonders how many devils she's had in her life that makes her ask that. You don't have to be Satan to be a devil of a man, she knows.

Allison sighs, "If God didn't want us to love men like that, he would've made us wiser but that's a title we have to earn, we're not just born with it. God makes no mistakes," she repeats the words she heard from him. "He knows us, better than we know ourselves, and as long as the love is true...I think...I hope...He understands. After all," she smiles, a bitter smile, but one she means all the same, "He's the omnipotent one, He should've known from the start what we ourselves didn't, right?"

There's a silence between them and Allison edges closer, notices the sniffling and tear drops. She doesn't get too close - she knows better after the knife incident.

"What's going to happen to us?" Laura wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, adopting her tough, indifferent, face.

Allison sighs, "Many scholars have tried to decipher the Bible, to see how long this will last, a period of infinite darkness, though mostly metaphorical," Allison looks outside the window. She knows the sun is about to rise soon enough. "The truth is, no one really knows...no one is supposed to know. That's why the Rapture had been meant to be sudden, unexpected, without warning. What will happen next?" She shrugs, "A false prophet will rise up, people will follow him, demons amongst us, demons that look like us," she thinks of Belial, "and then the Second Coming. When Jesus Christ comes down from the heavens to cleanse the world from the non-believers. Who knows how long that will take..." She, unlike Laura, had gone to Bible school many times, in most of her lifetimes.

"And do you believe that's what's going to happen?" Her voice sounds so small, so scared, that Allison doesn't know how to tell her - she's just as scared. They all are. That won't help her, she thinks.

She sighs, "I have stopped the Apocalypse a couple of times, after being told it was inevitable. I didn't stop it now. Do I think that means it'll happen exactly as it's been written?" Allison smiles, for once, remembering a day when she had a book in her hand, a book that _wrote_ itself. It would really prove handy right about now. "I think nothing is set in stone, life unfolds as we live it, and every choice leads us some place new. We can wait for fate, or we can do what we can to survive."

"Okay...one more question...would you mind going with me to the bathroom?" Off Allison's quirked brow, she half-smiles, "Kyle just fell asleep again and the others, too. You're the only one who doesn't sleep."

Allison nods, "Fine, lets go, but I'll have to wake up someone to keep watch while we're away."

The bathroom isn't far away, but Allison has created a system, one she hopes works and that it reassures the group in some small way. No one goes anywhere alone and someone has to stay awake at all times while others sleep. If anyone hears anything, don't check it out alone - that last rule was inspired by Allison's earlier actions.

She picks Pete to stay awake, letting the others sleep, and the walk to the bathroom is a quiet one - Laura no longer being the inquisitive one.

The bathroom is beautiful, a little messy ever since the quakes, but still functioning, with cathedral ceilings, wood-framed mirrors, stained-glass windows and pedestal sinks.

Allison watches as Laura disappears into the stalls and she uses the sink, surprised there's still running water, and she washes her face, using a paper towel to clean off the rest of the grime she's collected over the past few hours.

"You know," Laura says from inside the stall. "If we die, I just want to say-"

"-don't think that way-"

"-I just wanted to say thank you, for letting us come inside, for doing the hard thing and choosing to help us instead of just going with them. I know what it's like, always doing the easy thing, usually not a good idea."

Allison smiles, "Someone I know would probably call what I do being stupid."

Laura comes out of the bathroom stall, her cheeks still puffed but she's stopped crying, at least. She heads to the sink next to Allison's, "Maybe that's why people say you think with your head, you feel with your heart."

Allison smirks, "Yeah, except we don't, not really," but before she can go into the scientific facts that disprove that statement, Laura starts to scream, to back away from the sink and trying to clean her hands off the paper towels, pulling each one down frantically. Allison looks at the sink and sees...nothing. Just running water. She turns the water off, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Blood," she shudders, still trying to clean it off her. Allison only sees water in the sink, remnants of it, and some on the floor after Laura had drops splatter on the floor from her reaction and even on the paper towels.

"Calm down, there isn't any blood, just calm down," Allison gets close to her, putting her hand on her shoulder until Laura closes her eyes, forcing herself to calm down.

"You can't see it!?" She hisses, her hands on her hair, and Allison tugs at her hands, trying to make sure she doesn't rip her own hair out.

"No, I can't. Look, this-"

"What's going on!?" It's Kyle, Pete follows in after him, looking around the bathroom. They must've heard her scream.

"I saw b-blood, coming out of the faucet," Laura moves away from Allison, burying herself in Kyle's chest, and the crying resumes.

Pete's eyes fall on the faucet, then on Allison, before trying the water. Allison doesn't see anything and, from the look on Pete's face, he doesn't see anything, either.

"What happened?" Kyle's eyes land on Allison.

"Someone must know we're here..." It is the only thing that makes sense. Like Lucifer had said, demons even when locked out have ways of doing damage from the outside, by penetrating someone's mind, by targeting someone whose mind would create the necessary hallucinations to create...provoke...trouble.

Allison looks at Laura, pity in her eyes, and Laura turns her head, looking at them and the running water Pete didn't turn off. She furrows her eyes, confused - the hallucination is gone.

"But I saw it, it was blood! I know what blood looks like!" She looks up at Kyle, desperate.

"Maybe that's the problem," Pete turns off the water, finally.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle's tone drops.

"He means," Allison sighs, trying to avoid a fight, "what Lucifer said. There's a reason we're all here. I may be keeping you safe inside the church doors, but I cannot keep you safe from what's inside your mind. They," and Allison looks around the bathroom, her eyes falling on the stained-glass window, seeing an angelic design on one. "They can get inside your head, they know your deepest secrets and your most horrible regrets."

"Why me?" Laura's voice is angry, but so small, shaky, Allison almost doesn't want to answer.

"They like to target those with the most faith."

"But I haven't gone to church since I was sixteen! I don't believe anymore! I've broken almost every commandment! I've sinned! I've fucked," Kyle is trying to hold her back as she yells, getting even more agitated, and it's only a matter of time until she's face to face with Allison, but Pete stands right next to her, ready to pull Laura off her if he has to. Allison doesn't say thank you right then, but she appreciates it all the same.

"If you don't believe...why do you feel so much shame over breaking them? They know, Laura," she hates how much she sounds like him right now...like Lucifer. "If you didn't care, if you didn't believe, you wouldn't be so scared. Trust me, the faster you forgive yourself for your sins, the less power they have over you."

She walks toward the door, leaving them behind, though she hears footsteps behind her - Pete, probably - she doesn't turn back. She heads toward the church doors.

"You leaving?"

She presses her hand over the door, holding the tears back, "No. I just hope he can get here in time before things get worse."

And Allison has a feeling, they were about to get _much_ worse.

* * *

Angels, even the Fallen, do not have to travel like most mortals would. Angels have their wings, but Fallen lost those long ago and were thus damned to crawl the earth, very much like a snake would, unable to even touch the clouds the way they used to.

However, that never prevented Lucifer from traveling in his own way. He can travel through shadows and he can change forms, be it human or animal.

The others have certain gifts, some of which include the ease of travel, and those are the ones selected, Lucifer included, to scout for a nephalim.

However, Lucifer has an agenda not even he dares reveal to his followers; no, his actions can have no witness, as he has reached a new low not even Lilith would have imagined him to reach.

He looks down at the rivers, flowing into four heads, the sound of rapid, flowing water calming him somehow, even though he would think it impossible. His mind is clouded, he has no real way out of this and if he's come to this point, he truly is desperate.

It's the only place not even _they_ can sully, the one place that, while gone, is still present, still untouched and ignored by many.

He comes out of the shadows finally, after seeing the shimmer of light he had been looking for.

Angels may be occupied, outside his reach, but there is a place in which one angel may still be able to answer his questions...if He wills it.

As he approaches the area where he last saw the shimmer, he remains alert, counting his steps carefully. Any wrong step will have him becoming barbecue at the hands of a very old friend, and he's not having that.

The shimmer becomes a mirage and, before he can come any closer, he sees the sword. He doesn't wait for it to meet his face as he immediately takes a step to the side, letting the sword, covered in fire, meet the ground with a thundering sound next to him. The sound blows him aside, the wind knocking into his skin, and he falls on his back, sitting up immediately as to not lose sight of his situation.

Lucifer quirks a brow, pretending to be hurt - offended, even, as he moves to stand, looking at the dirt on his clothes, "Is that how you greet an old friend, Jophiel?"

Jophiel, very much an angel, the guardian of the garden, a cherubim, with an appearance that would be the envy of many women, even though gender is a non-existent issue in heaven as most are determined as male; Lucifer's fallen are one of the lucky few to be granted certain gender-like attributes for the sake of mischievous escapades. Jophie's hair cascades in blond curls, pale skin, his body slender, delicate, but his strength lies in his faith. It always has.

It's that faith that Lucifer is counting on to help him...it's the only way.

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** This chapter was meant to be one of the longest yet, but I had to cut some things and put it in the next chapter. With good reason, I hope. I honestly loved writing it (especially the fragment that's in the next chapter!) I'm sitting right there next to you guys as you read this one. I remember staying up way past my bedtime for this one, totally worth it. So happy. And yes, I know in the 2nd film of the Prophecy (one of my favorites, by the way) references the Garden of Eden, with the gate, and the tree just outside of it, but there's no real confirmation if that is the official Garden of Eden. And my muse is willing to accept that maybe one of the angels (or fallen) decided to plant a tree and, well, now they hang around it for creepy-like purposes. Anything can happen (especially in my head). To me, the Garden of Eden is as fascinating as the story of Atlantis and Avalon/Camelot. If I had unlimited funds, I would travel the world and try to find these places (I should've been an archeologist...) to explore the myths behind them...


	9. Chapter 8 - Blood on Our Hands

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note: **This chapter has that fragment I told you about. My mom used to have a very extensive library and as a child, I loved reading (my first book being Greek mythology, so you can imagine how my mind developed) and one was in Spanish, Strange Worlds Amazing Places, and it had the most beautiful depiction of the Garden of Eden and I've never forgotten it. I kind of drew inspiration from that when I integrated that world into the fanfic, and being able to write about the guardian himself...I enjoyed it more than I should've, I think, so again, I hope I'm not the only one :-) remember, rated R, due to the oncoming gore more than anything else...and considering this is where Emilie Autumn's music tickled my mind, you can imagine.

* * *

**Chapter 8. **Blood on Our Hands

* * *

__Dead is the new alive  
Despair's the new survival  
A pointless point of view  
Give in, give in, give in, give in  
You play the game  
You'll never win__

**"****Dead Is the New Alive****" Emilie Autumn  
**

* * *

In spite of Lucifer's attempts at a somewhat civilized conversation, Jophiel doesn't respond, but simply pulls the sword from the ground and raises it, taking another swing, and another, until Lucifer's jumps to evade him have him standing inches from the river. The sword is now pointed at Lucifer's face and Jophiel's azure eyes stare at him defiantly.

When he speaks, his voice is melodious, a harmony that would crumble the courage of any human being - luckily, Lucifer isn't human. "You may not enter the garden, serpent."

"I have no intention to," his smile widens, but that doesn't deter Jophiel's actions, as his sword remains pointed at Lucifer.

"You intend to hide from her?"

It takes Lucifer a moment to decipher who he means by _her_.

He shakes his head, "Lilith **will** find me when it meets her interests, but there's someone she aims to find first, and **that** is what I am here to prevent."

Jophiel's eyebrows furrow in response and he begins to lower his sword, almost hesitant, he lets it touch the ground and it disappears from his hand as if it never existed.

"It's true, then. You have fallen for a mortal, a nephalim," he says, the surprise clear in his tone.

"That is very old news, friend." Lucifer looks tired for a moment, but accepts the truth for what it is, the truth.

"I wish you'd stop calling me that," Jophiel pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and when he opens them, Lucifer is smiling. He smiles in return.

There once was a time when heaven was all there was; there was no humanity, no plagues, no sins, nothing but pure bliss in the glory of God...and Lucifer, he had been the most beautiful angel of them all, some would say the most beloved. It's why Jophiel had been chosen to guard the garden; not only is he excellent at keeping records, Jophiel had been one of Lucifer's favorite cherubs and proved himself faithful to God when he, himself, did not fall _with_ Lucifer.

Jophiel's faith was, and surely still is, limitless, even when he loves the undeserving.

"I need your help." Lucifer is serious now - he's not begging, but he is asking for help, from an angel, no less. If his followers could see him now...there would be nothing he could do to save face and he knows - he _trusts_ \- Jophiel will not spread the news like wildfire.

"I don't see how I can help you, fallen." Of course, he has to say that. It's in his job description. He will hear him out, though, and that's more than most would.

"Allison is with child." Jophiel's face doesn't change, which means he already knows, and that thought alone proves one of Lucifer's suspicions correct. "Her child means something to someone or else," he sighs, lips tight, "it wouldn't exist. Either Lilith needs it to prepare for the battle against his coming or He needs it to incite the Second Coming. Now, somehow, I doubt the latter, though I wouldn't put it past Him; however, the point remains. Our child would be an instrument to something its mother is very opposed to, and bearing that in mind, I ask for a safe haven, for the child." Lucifer knew if he asked Jophiel to protect the child, he would have to protect the mother, for however long the baby remained in her belly, and Lucifer knows it won't take him months to dethrone Lilith and get Allison out of Jophiel's capable hands.

He just needs time - whatever time he can get - to get Beelzebub and the others organized, to cultivate every possibility, to entertain any idea, to give him an advantage against Lilith_ and_ the Almighty himself. He's intending to do this with little to no resources - no power over hell, no blessings from heaven; he's going to have to depend on whatever he can get his hands on.

"You cannot expect me to defy Him," Jophiel looks at him as if he is out of his mind - well, obviously - and crosses his arms, making his stand known.

Lucifer smiles, "On the contrary, old friend. If you protect her, you would be doing His will. You do know how His book was written-"

"By men, influenced by their own imperfections," Jophiel interrupts him, seemingly bored.

Lucifer then remembers one of the many reasons he often missed his old friend. He continues, "Yes, however, some things are true. One of them being His son's return. Do you truly believe He wishes for His son to be destroyed by my successor?"

Jophiel is listening, as Lucifer has somehow struck a nerve.

"We know He is omnipotent, we know His son will live, but what if the reason His son survives is because we do not allow Allison, and our child, to be utilized against him? What if we are the reason His will remains true?" Lucifer feels he's overselling it a little bit, but considering the stakes, he's going all in. He cannot win this with doubt and he's certainly not second-guessing himself. Not now.

"What concerns me, fallen," Jophiel's eyebrow raises, just the one, "is how is it that helping Him helps you?"

Lucifer had been expecting that. He smiles, like the wolf that ate the canary, "Sometimes the interests of heaven and hell are not so very different, Jophiel. Get used to it." He almost laughs at his own memory, because it means he's been right since the start and he's ever the egotistical one. "I am no longer he who was once referred to as Satan. I am no Prince of Darkness. I have no formal title, no privilege or claim over hell. However, I am still Lucifer. I am still a fallen. I am still skilled with a gift for delicate atrocities, but I have been stripped of that which made me what I once was. I have been made weak," his tone gets lower, almost angry, "I have been influenced by emotions that are beneath me and I have loved every minute of it, every touch of her skin, every sound of her voice and every act of idiocy she has done in spite of my counsel, she," he pauses, trying not to scream the next few words, "she loves me." And in the end, it boils down to that, a child cast out from his Father's paradise, into the darkness, with few to worship him and none to truly love him, not like his Father once did.

Jophiel's eyes him suspiciously, but his eyes have softened and even he realizes the meaning behind Lucifer's words. He loves her, in his own sickening, peculiar way.

"Very well, fallen, I will help you. I will give you a gift to give to your nephalim. Once the gift is given, she will arrive here, where I will lead her into the sanctuary of the garden."

Lucifer's relief carries through his body likes waves. This is the first time he's ever felt Allison's survival to be absolute. In Jophiel's hands, he has no doubts she will survive. "And where is this gift?"

"Before I bestow upon you...this gift...I have a question of my own," Jophiel's eyebrows are furrowed, as wondering if he should be asking anything at all.

This intrigues Lucifer, who nods, "Do your worst, Jophiel."

"You've fallen for the nephalim, that much is clear," off Lucifer's shrug, he continues, "but the child...what will you do with the child once it's born?"

Lucifer stares at him, intently. He hadn't thought about it - hadn't allowed himself to. His main concern at this moment is Allison, nothing more, nothing less, but with Allison comes a child...No, not _a_ child, but _their_ child. Could he do it? It took him so long to accept his feelings for Allison - too long - but the child...could he truly have something so common and mundane as a "family"? One weakness is enough, but two...two would make things very dangerous - would make _him_ very dangerous.

He answers as honestly as he can - as honestly as any fallen would, "Ensure their survival, Jophiel, and you might discover the answer to that question, and not a second before. Now, the gift?"

The corner of Jophiel's lips rises, his eyes slightly narrow, and he extends his arm, letting his hand catch the back of Lucifer's neck. "The only gift I have to give that He would allow, fallen, is one that cannot be seen." And Lucifer smiles, knowings that not even He would let Jophiel give him the flaming sword, or anything from the garden, so Jophiel is, quite literally, blessing him with the only gift he can give, coming from his very lips.

As their lips touch, it's not entirely chaste, and Lucifer can tell that, yes, Jophiel remembers his old friend Lucifer very well, even if he's not referring to Lucifer as such, and it means more to him now, in a different manner, that Jophiel was the one angel that loved him so much, and yet did not follow him to the darkness. At least that's one less soul he brought down with him.

As their lips separate, they're gazing into each other's eyes - one a pool of silvery, slithering darkness and the other a pool of calm, clear waters - and Lucifer smiles, "I always wondered why you never referred to me as Satan. Or the Prince of Darkness. If you heard the things Gabriel still calls me," and before Lucifer can go back to his old ways, once upon a friendship, Jophiel rolls his eyes and presses the bottom of his palm on Lucifer's forehead, which causes Lucifer to fall back in the water and disappear.

* * *

Allison took a risk in sleeping - a _very_ big risk - but had been daytime, everyone is awake and alert, unable to sleep due to their memories being twisted into nightmares - many have chosen not to sleep, unless absolutely necessary, and even then, they fight it. Laura is still somewhat shaken, but with her brother next to her, she feels safer, calmer, and not so easily rattled.

Allison had also been feeling tired. It makes her wonder what kind of baby this will be, and what it would do to her. That's when she decided to rest, for the baby's sake, hoping not to fall into too deep a sleep that she couldn't remain alert.

Sleep came, and she dreamt of the impossible, of tall green grass, fields covered with blue bells, children's laughter, two beautiful children chasing a kite, then their father, _John_, and herself, jumping on his back pointing at the sky, and that's when the sun becomes hidden, behind a dark, dark, cloud. The grass is gone, leaving only a barren land and night sweeps in, a chill running down her spine. She looks at John, but he's John no longer. She sees Lucifer's black eyes staring back at her, no goodness within, and the children...the children aren't children, can't be, with a gray complexion, vein-like lines all across their skin, eyes burning red and a palpable hatred, responsible for death, for they have become death - a family only the Prince of Darkness could create.

Allison screams herself awake and immediately starts looking all around her, fearing seeing _them_ again, but they're not there. It was just a dream.

"Shhh, hey, it's all right, we're all here," Pete approaches her first, keeping a respectful distance, checking to make sure she's all right.

"Did you see something, too?" Laura, poor Laura, still afraid she's going crazy, or being a target of the demons lurking in the shadows.

Allison's hand is to her chest, her heart beating fast, and she just nods, not wanting to say a word. She knows it's not possible, but_ they_ don't. She never did explain to them why John preferred her to be alone rather than with them - for all they know, he just didn't trust them. Demons cannot persuade nephalims the way they do humans. They're not so easily entranced. Although, with Stark, he had been able to make her see more than she wanted to and yet, that had been a slightly different circumstance...wasn't it?

"I need something to drink," Allison clears her throat, and they bring her a cup of water - it's the thing they use most, and the thing they are trying to ration carefully as, after the bathroom incident, some of the others had decided to use the restroom and realized the water had been cut off.

Allison has a suspicion that the world is going on outside those doors, but who is managing it and _how_, is a risk Allison hasn't been tempted to investigate yet. Their circumstances are not just biblical, or apocalyptic, but it's very much like a war, on a more global scale, of course, where entire cities are destroyed and the survivors become the law until the real law comes into town. Except, in this scenario, the law is the most likely to be dead, or death itself. Lilith is no fool and she would've gone for the major threats first. No one in her position would tolerate such competition, but it also means they have control of the workings of their society; could you imagine demons working at a hospital? Absolute chaos, until heaven's law comes down to release them, one way or another.

Not knowing is what's killing her. A moment ago, she wanted to slap herself for not going with John, to be of some use, because even though her presence helps them, it can't protect them for long. The vision Laura had had been a cruel reminder of that fact. How many warnings has John given her has she ignored?.

The others are keeping their distance again. They're all scared, tired and lost. They've all lost people, they've all had nightmares of memories and their inevitable, yet undetermined, fates. They sleep when they have to, but as the nightmares get worse, they can't even do that. They've talked as much as they can, but the more they remember, the more it hurts.

Everyone writes about those who ascend, those who fly into God's grace, but no one really considers the sinners, the battle-scarred, those who weren't as wise or as strong to recover. They're the ones who had to live in the shadows, or to hide in plain sight, pretending to be what they're not, just to survive in the world given unto them by their forefathers, doing what they could to fit in to society, to follow the rules within their environment, regretting their sins in silence but doing it all over again, because it's all they know. It's all they've ever known.

There are two kind of sinners, Allison thinks. There are those who love the sin, who would bathe in the blood of their own if it met getting what they're wanted, but then there are those who use the sin to survive, who are so utterly lost, they think the sin is that which sparks their life...a necessary evil, it already exists, you're already at the doorstep, why not walk in when everything is already pulling you there?

They all had choices. They all made wrong ones. Even Allison.

She doesn't regret meeting John...falling in love with Lucifer. There are times she think she does, but then her heart starts beating a little harder and she feels it's hard to breathe; she know what that means. She loves him too much to regret that sin.

She looks around the church, her eyes swelling with tears. She hopes they might be forgiven; they all seem like good people to her, they do regret, and they seek forgiveness. If the scripture wasn't written to give false hope to those witnessing the end of days, well, then they_ just_ might find some shred of peace.

Allison, however, doesn't feel as lucky, and she's come to terms with that.

She may not survive, but her baby might. The child might be good, might have a guardian - hopefully, a human one - and maybe will be the hope for a new beginning. It doesn't matter if the child had been planned as another tool - a fate she wishes she could've spared it from _somehow_ \- because it will end with her. She hasn't told John this - hopefully, she won't have to - but she's not worried about surviving this time. She knows the cost is too high. The world is already in chaos, she may just be carrying a child so special that it needs to survive the impossible odds. She'll make sure she lives long enough to have the baby, but after that...she'll sacrifice everything for the baby, for him, for everyone, if it means stopping it, stopping _them_. She's died before, she's lost before, and of the two, she knows which she'd choose.

"You gonna talk about that dream you had?" It's Pete, and he sits on the pew next to her, to where she's been isolating herself ever since the dream. She knew they would give her the space she needed to recover, but she hadn't realized Pete would be the first to come to her side. Maybe he recognizes the spirit inside of her. They're both people of faith and, in the face of darkness, they both believe. They also have no delusions of goodness. Pete is not a good man who has done good things; the things he has done, he's done them for reasons that, to him, however wrong, were justifiable. Allison can relate, which is comical, considering she is empathizing with a criminal, but she herself knows she hasn't done good things, but what she has done...she's done for reasons she thought good.

She shrugs, "Not much to tell. Just as weird as everyone else's." They had been dreaming about their families, their friends, every day events suddenly turned dark and deadly. Memories of things they had done, regrets that barely tickled their conscience before now have joined with their subconscious in an effort to torment them and twist their reality.

Pete copes better than the rest because he knows he's not a good person, he knows he needs to be punished, but the others...they all pray for second chances.

Allison thinks she's done praying, too. If she wants another chance, she'll have to fight for it, for the sake of the child.

"Yeah, something tells me yours are probably weirder, considering what you're involved with. A little blow ain't got nothing on devil's girl." His smile tells her he doesn't really care; even though he does think she's a little crazy, everything that has happened thus far falls under his category of crazy, so the devil's girlfriend is not the craziest thing, in truth.

Allison tries to smile back, but her smile is tired, "I still started out human, like the rest of you. I thought I was normal until a pack of dogs attacked me and killed me, except that, I didn't die. Now...I'm this."

"God gave you a gift," he mutters, "seems like you're trying to do good with it."

Allison laughs as soon as he calls it a gift, turning her head to look him in the eye, "When I used to just be me, ignorant to the war in heaven, I would've called anything a gift. For a time, I thought my schizophrenia was a gift. When I realized an angel was speaking to me, I thought, yes, this is a gift, this is his way of giving me what I need to survive and save humanity, but if you walk out that door, you'll probably see most of humanity hiding in shadows or getting their guts ripped out by giant skeleton bugs." She still hadn't figured out what to call them.

"You saved** us**," he bumps her shoulder with his, "and you got a little life in you. You win some, you lose some. Take it from someone who's used to losing. This? This is a win."

She shakes her head, looking down at her hands, "We haven't won anything yet."

To her surprise, he holds her hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "Leave the war to better men, or not men," he shrugs, "We just need to worry about the battles."

That makes her smile, she bumps his shoulder, "When did you get so wise, felon?"

He laughs, a full laugh, "Hell, I had to learn something after getting caught so many times. In fact, I could-"

But before Pete could tell all the stories of how many stores he broke into and how he started dealing in very dangerous places, a scream alerts them and Allison's eyes immediately finds the group. Brian and Hanna have their backs against the wall, away from the scene at hand, and in the middle of the altar is Laura, a knife in her hand, pointing it at Kyle. Allison stands up, Pete right behind her, but as they get closer, they see the drops of blood, they see Kyle's hand covering his stomach and the knife...it's dripping blood.

"Get away from me! Get it away from me! Someone, please, it's here! Allison, one of them is in here!"

"Kyle!" Allison can't worry about Laura right now, she can't think, as Kyle stumbles into the ground, not reaching the pew in time, and his hand stops covering his wound and she must've hit something important because blood is pouring out faster than Allison can _move._ Allison falls on her knees next to him, she rips off the sleeves off his shirt, they're long, and she can tie them together. She has to try something. She's not a medic. She's not a doctor. She just knows she has to stop the blood - Laura didn't just stab him _once_, she can't see all of them but she can feel the puncture wounds. There are more than just one. She has to stop it before _they_ can smell it. "Kyle, I need you to apply pressure here. Damn it, I need something thicker. I need a pair of scissors, a knife, anything, damn it!"

Hannah is the one who responds to her, giving her a knife that she assumes belonged to Brian, and Allison cuts Kyle's jeans, using a small piece of it as a patch while she ties the sleeves around the wound. Some time between her tying it and still applying pressure, Hannah took Kyle's head onto her lap, slapping his cheek to keep him from falling asleep...and never waking up.

Allison then risks looking back where Pete has Laura, her arms behind her back, tears running down her cheek as she realizes her actions. "It was one of them! I thought he was one of them! I woke up and, I saw it, but it wasn't him, it was one of them!" She keeps screaming, trying to break free from Pete's grip but he has one arm around her neck now and Allison wants to tell him to let her go, he's probably hurting her, but she can't force herself to.

When she turns to look at Kyle, he's pale, barely breathing and he smiles, his eyes on Allison, "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure," Allison smiles back, biting back the tears, and leans close to him so he doesn't have to talk too loud.

He coughs, a drop of blood on his lip, "Ask your boyfriend to get me a good room. With my sister."

Allison bites her lip. She can save him. She has to. "You can be forgiven, Kyle. Whatever you have done, you can...repent. I'm not a priest, but there are ways..." to buy your way into heaven, she almost says. She knows what indulgences are, though she always thought God knew better than forgive someone putting a price on a sin, but then, what are sin-eaters, and why do such myths exist? It's too bad she doesn't know any sin-eaters. She can think of a lot of people that would need one right now. But Kyle? She doesn't know what he has done to think he deserves a first-class ticket to hell.

"None of that matters," he coughs again and, this time, when Allison sees his teeth, she sees blood on them. "I don't regret it," Allison notices he's looking at Laura as he speaks. Laura, who has fallen on her knees, unable to carry her own weight at the realization of her actions. "I love my sister," his eyes are starting to get glazed, he's looking at the ceiling, "I love her," he's having trouble breathing now, and Allison moves away as Laura crawls towards him. She leans in, kisses him softly, on the lips, and Allison can tell, by the way his hands hit the floor - lifeless - that he's dead.

Allison is about to cover her mouth until she realizes they're covered in blood, _his_ blood, and she wipes it off her pants, though that only does so much. Brian stands by Hannah, who no longer has Kyle on her lap as Laura pulled his lifeless body to her and is now clinging to it like it's her only lifeline.

Incest. No one says it, no one would dare to, but it makes sense. It's a sin that has no forgiveness, none that Allison can think of, though part of her hopes - and maybe this means she's been spending too much time with Lucifer - that if Eve came from Adam, they were kin, in their own way, so why would that be unforgivable if God made it so?

_Because man wrote that, while it happened, it was not supposed to and many were not conscious of said sin while committing it. It's wrong because so it is written._

Worse than that, Allison knows that Laura has now killed her own brother - a sin she is all too familiar with - and like Cain and Abel, that is a mark that never leaves you.

Allison accepts Pete's hand when he offers it, so she can stand, and he hands her Laura's knife, which she takes, without another thought.

She looks through the window - sunset, probably - and still no sign of John. She knows they're not going to sleep tonight - who would, after that? - and she feels...there are many nights to come.

None of them are safe.

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** I should mention I am no advocate to incest, so I hope my use of it in this fic does not offend anyone, but it's not uncommon, sadly...and it's not often willing. I have heard stories from people and I'm always saddened by how much guilt they carry when, most of the time, it wasn't their fault, and while people condemn that harshly, I often hope it's something that can be forgiven...but that's just me, the idealist. This chapter was hard to write because of it, because I knew I had to write it honestly, by the rules of the bible and catholic church, rather than my idealism. As for Jophiel's relationship with Lou, well, I confess I did take liberties with that. I mean, in my mind, angels aren't subjected to the same rules as humans and being that they don't envy, don't lust, don't feel any of the emotions that easily lead down to a sin (unless you're a fallen), then any love they feel would be pure. But, again, that could just be my idealism!


	10. Chapter 9 - The Deals We Make

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** Severe warning, this one contains a sex scene which may be a bit strong for some (I'm even contemplating saving this fanfic outside of , lest someone blow a whistle to the domain), because it includes a bit of rape, a bit of insanity and a bit of madness...and it may break your heart just a bit, but you have to trust me, I do mean to mend it. This chapter was very hard for me to write, because I know what Lou's plans are and how they might be accomplished, and it's not going to be pleasant or good, but since when has he been the one to make good decisions? Yeah...I rest my case.

* * *

**Chapter 9.** The Deals We Make

* * *

_God help me  
Believe me, this wasn't what I wanted  
But no, I can't leave, he's got me  
Won't you shine in my direction and help me?  
Won't you lend me your protection and help me?_

**"****God Help Me****" Emilie Autumn  
**

* * *

Azazel had found a suitable nephalim - with Raum's assistance, they even found a second one, but that one is a bit on the insane side, and it wouldn't have taken so long if someone hadn't been killing nephalims or driving them mad. Lucifer imagines Lilith is trying to send a message.

To be fair, Beelzebub had been the first to find a nephalim, but he had killed herself shortly after he tried to take him. Humans, even if only half-angel, have an instinct to survive, and for one of them to impale themselves is, well, a bit extreme, and they didn't bother trying to put him back together - he was not going to be very helpful, obviously.

They bring the nephalims to their little plantation - that being an oxymoron - under the pretense of them being Azazel's toys for the night - not unexpected, the perfect cover - and Lucifer stays on the couch, by the window, no longer staring at the closed curtains, at the chaos that is not his to savor.

That life no longer belongs to him.

He touches a finger to his lip, looking at Azazel, eyebrow quirked, "I can understand them being bound, Azazel, but gagged?" Azazel only shrugs in response, feigning innocence. Lucifer ignores his smugness, leans forward, hands joined, "Forgive my friend, he enjoys his fetishes too much to take them out of his assignments. You are both very important. You are half-sheep, half-angel." Off the blonde's furrowed brow - he guesses that's the one still sane - he smiles, "Oh, yes, you're not entirely human, and while I would normally enjoy explaining the misfortune of that fate, I have no time. Know this, the world is ending, you're the sinners He left behind, and that means your lives are forfeit. I can do with you what I please. I will not hurt or kill you. I will simply use you to protect others like you." The blonde one clearly doesn't trust him - definitely sane - as her hazel eyes narrow, her blond hair barely reaching her cheekbones and she's quite small - and probably that big of a pill.

Lucifer decides to tempt his luck and pulls the gag off her, "Are there any questions?"

"Yeah," from the accent, she's not local, "What do you mean, **use us**? What do you want from us?"

Lucifer lets his finger touch the corners of her face. Oh, yes, definitely a nephalim. There's that electricity, that ounce of defiance that comes from walking both roads and having the choice of being. Angels don't get a choice. They're angels, never to experience anything outside what they are, what they're meant for.

Her eyes follow his fingers and, when it's about to touch her lips, she moves back in disgust. He smiles, "You are, I suppose, built with a defense mechanism meant to be used for such an occasion," he looks around him, to the map with the governments that have already fallen, the structure of civilizations that have already been wiped out, "You can keep demons out, keep others safe, but only in the house where His hypocritical worship takes place."

"A church?" The girl guesses, "You've got to be joking. That's your plan? Hide people in churches and just sit it out while the world crumbles around you, really? What kind of heroes are you?"

Azazel is the first to laugh at that. Lucifer smiles, too, and his smile makes the girl clear her throat - good, fear. It's always nice to know he has that effect on women still.

"Oh, we are not heroes. The mere definition of the word is outside the realm we exist in. And it's not my plan," he admits, chuckling, "It is Allison's plan. She's a nephalim, like you, and suffers from many heroic tendencies. She's hiding in a church right now, in an attempt to keep others safe, because of her little gift. You should be able to do the same. We're doing a bit of a trade. You will take her place. The others get to live and she gets to come with me, and then, somehow, we'll find a way to win this war the way it ought to be won."

The girl swallows, suddenly understanding that they're not just scary men with scary strength, and if they're talking about angels, nephalims, churches and war like it's the most normal thing in the world right now - and, considering the world right now, that just might be a true statement - she now knows she's in over her head. "And what way is that?"

"Not with a bang, but with a whimper," he quotes, smiling, "don't worry your pretty little head about it. We'll be leaving very soon." While he could travel instantly, nephalims would have to travel like most fallen, in the shadows, and they would have to make sure to use the night in their favor while they still had the darkness to count on.

"Oh, come on, let me play with them first, please," Azazel all but begs, and that's when Beelzebub comes in, closing the door behind him, "Come on, tell him, Beelzebub. We haven't had an ounce of fun since this first started."

"Oh, we've had an ounce," Beelzebub grins, "but probably not an ounce like this one," he licks his lips, appreciating the view. On one side, they have a blond, pixie-like nephalim, and on the other, a crazy, ebony-haired siren - they called her _siren_ because of how she screams - with the dark brown eyes, almost black, her mind lost.

"What's your name?" He asks the blonde.

She's nervous now - she knows she's trapped, and she knows what _they_ are asking for.

"Katherine," she whispers.

"Do you know her, Katherine?" He nods at the crazy girl who keeps rocking back and forth, her eyes staring into space.

The blond shakes her head.

"Azazel, tell her how you found our little siren," Lucifer leans back, knowing Azazel would not beg him for a treat, not unless he does what he's asked, of course.

Like a good little soldier, he's happy to obey, "Oh, she was painting the sidewalks with the blood of her very dead friends. As if that wasn't curious enough, there was no other fallen in sight, no demon, it's almost as if they figured she was already damned, no point in killing her too soon. Madness gives us too much to entertain ourselves with...a madness such as this," Azazel gets closer to the siren, bringing a strand of her dark hair to his nose, inhaling her scent, "it is nurtured with such precision, such events, it would be a crime to destroy such a beautiful thing." He places his finger on the girl's chin and kisses her lips through the gag. The girl doesn't even blink, but she stops moving. Once he releases her, she starts rocking again.

"I want you to understand this, Katherine. Our little siren is the perfect example of what you don't want to become. This world belongs to demons and fallen angels, all with their particular appetites, and they have no compassion, no remorse and most certainly nothing to stop them from skinning you alive. For now, you have a reason to live, to assist us, to assist **me**. You may live and remain untouched for as long as you understand this, because if you don't, you will meet our siren's fate. And if my words aren't explanation enough..." He looks to Azazel and Beelzebub. With one simple nod, they understand exactly what he wants - what he is allowing them to take.

Beelzebub moves to pick Katherine up from the floor, who immediately starts to fight and scream, but he's stronger. Beelzebub drops her on Lucifer's lap, and Lucifer restrains her, while Beelzebub gags her again. Meanwhile, Azazel has brought the siren to her feet, moving her towards the desk until she's leaning chest down on the desk. As soon as the gag comes out, the siren starts to laugh - it's an insane laugh, he knows - and begins blubbering things that make little to no sense to anyone.

"They came in, found me hiding, we were all hiding, but they saw me, told me to be a good little girl, God is watching. God is watching. God is watching!"

Beelzebub joins Azazel as one of them rips off her shirt and the other one pulls down her pants.

Lucifer is busy restraining Katherine - not that he planned to participate. In truth, this had been the only way he could give them what they wanted without losing face as their general. They may be helping him, but they're doing it for Lucifer, not for _John_. They care little for what feelings Lucifer may have for Allison, but they care because he is their general and, unlike Lilith, his reign had been simple.

_Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven._

With Lilith, well, her ambitions go higher, and truthfully, they already fell once. With Lilith, they risk going past their initial fall - the final death. All creatures fear death, in the end, and while their existence had never been full of victories and infinite joy, they had some freedom and Lucifer's blessing to cause as much chaos as they pleased, within reason, of course.

Even chaos must have _some_ order if it's to succeed, not unlike organized crime. Any idiot can commit a crime, it is quite different for a serial killer to pursue his fantasies and elude the proper authorities...that, in itself, is an art, one Lucifer had mastered long ago.

Katherine's scream brings Lucifer's attention to the current situation and he understands then why she screamed, and why she's about to scream again, as Azazel has brought his hand down to the siren's bottom not once, not twice, but several times, if the hand print on her buttcheek is any indication. Beelzebub has the siren's mouth wrapped around his member, muffling her screams, with a hand full of her hair. But when Azazel parts her legs, and inserts himself within her butthole, there's nothing that can muffle her screams. She can't hold Beelzebub's member while Azazel pounds into her at an alarming pace and so, Azazel forces her to stand up. He picks up her legs and, as if already choreographed, Beelzebub stands in front of her, hands on her hips, and he slams himself inside her inner folds.

The screams are deafening - Lucifer knows anyone listening outside that door would probably be incited to do the same to themselves. Lust provokes lust in amongst the fallen.

He, himself, is aroused - he gave up a title, not his identity - and he finds himself caressing Katherine's neck as she watches the scene before them.

He wants to - he could rip off her clothes, take her breast into his mouth, and pound his cock into her until she passes out. He could even wipe her memory after he's done. It would be _so_ easy.

_But I'd remember_. The thought alone makes him feel sick. Who cares? He's Lucifer. He's the embodiment of sin.

Beelzebub's voice reaches him, "Come on, join us, Lucifer." Lucifer meets his eyes. "You have to lead by example, right?"

And Lucifer smiles, his arousal pressed against Katherine's back, hidden from them, but not her. She's shaking. She doesn't want to end up like the siren.

Before Lucifer can form an eloquent response, Eligor walks in, careful to close the door behind him just as quickly as he ignores the two fallen who continue to play with their new toy, and focuses his eyes on Lucifer.

"We have a problem," he reports. "Lilith has found her."

* * *

This night is cold. Well, most nights are, but now that they've lost water and they've lost electricity, they have nothing but the sound of their breaths, a few candles - which they're also trying not to use too many - and the silence to taunt them with sounds that play trick on their minds.

Laura is now catatonic; she won't leave Kyle's side and she hasn't spoken to anyone. Unfortunately, it makes the others nervous, and it makes them trust her less.

Allison has tried what she can to bring Laura back into the group, but she won't let them near his body or leave it behind.

Now that the others have seen how the madness has overtaken her - did demons pollute her mind or did she just snap? - they don't want to risk finding out by getting too close, not when getting too close might get them hurt, too.

"If something, a dream, or whatever, made her kill her own brother, what's to say she won't kill us, too?" Brian had posed a good question, one Allison couldn't argue with.

And so they keep their backs to the altar, sitting on the floor, as they watch the doors, the windows, and Laura, sitting with her back to a pew, her brother still cradled in her arms.

"This is the way the world ends: Not with a bang but a whimper," Allison murmurs.

"T.S. Eliot," Hannah acknowledges, "I thought that meant science would be the end of us...we were wrong."

"This isn't the end," Pete shakes his head, looking at the ceiling, and Allison is surprised by his optimism. Well, all things considered, could they afford such a thing?

"My abuela, she's a die-hard Catholic, and she always said God wouldn't wipe us out. He'd throw plagues at us, flood, hell, even fire, but people always survive. The good always survive and, in the end, we'll wipe ourselves out. The day man's greed is more than man's ability to survive, that's when we all die. Or maybe it wasn't greed," he puts his hand on his face, letting it fall as he sighs, "Might've been selfishness or pride. I don't know. Pick one."

"You grandma sounds like a nice person," Allison smiles, wishing what he had said could be true.

"Yeah, she was, but she was crazy, too."

"Most wise people are," Brian mutters, and they have a small laugh, which makes Allison's eyes fall on Laura.

No reaction.

She frowns.

The silence is then disturbed by a knock on the door. Then another. A louder knock follows.

Allison swallows, putting a hand on the floor so she can push herself up to stand. Pete follows suit and grabs a candle. He nods and she knows he won't let her go alone.

"Thank you," she murmurs, and they begin to walk down to the door - the walk seems to go on forever - and she presses her hand on the door, "Is it you?"

"Yes, Allison. It's me." His voice calms her, in spite of how anxious and terrified she should be, he _calms_ her.

She opens the door without another thought and sees him standing there, alone, with a young blonde.

"Is she...?" Allison can hardly believe it. Well, she can, but she didn't think he could...or that he _would_.

"She's a nephalim. Here," he shoves her in Pete's direction. Pete catches her, asks her if she's okay, but the nephalim is too stunned to answer. She seems to be in a catatonic state herself.

"What happened to her?" Allison looks at her face. She has some bruises on her wrist, but she looks otherwise okay.

"She was witness to some gruesome things. Lilith may be taking out her anger on your kind, at least, until she finds you. Which reminds me, we had a deal, Allison. It's time to hold up your end of that bargain," his hands is in his pockets, but she knows those words were his way of pulling her outside of the church and into his arms - and the fact he can't do it, physically, must be driving him _nuts_.

She looks to Pete. "Just, keep her inside, while she's here, they can't come in. Stay together and try to stay sane, please."

Pete moves to give her a hug, but it's awkward at first, both unsure of how much of their personal space they can invade. "You take care. Give 'em hell, no pun intended."

She smiles, "I will."

"Oh, she will," Lucifer agrees as he extends his hand, staying outside the doorway. Allison takes his hand with some hesitance and, once she steps outside, her heart starts to beat faster. She can't believe it. It's finally done.

She moves to kiss him, but John turns around too fast, and then starts to walk. It stuns her and it takes her a moment to tell her feet to follow suit.

"Where are we going?" She asks as they go down the stairs.

"Far away from here, just follow me, and-"

"Don't ask questions? Why, Lucifer, the girl has every right to ask questions, I should think." And that's when electricity suddenly comes on _everywhere_. The church, the buildings around them, the street lights, everything just comes on.

Allison's heart is about to leap out of her chest - there are fallen all around them, there are streets covered with them, an entire army, and their leader, Lilith herself. She's wearing a coat, blood red, and her clothes seem to hug her body in a rather beautifully lethal way, the cleavage alone is enticing, and the heels look like they could poke an eye out with very little effort.

"Lucifer," Lilith walks towards them, her smile seeping with victory.

"Lilith," Lucifer smiles, squeezing Allison's hand to reassure her; he doesn't even bother to try and shield her. First, they're surrounded. Secondly, anyone who aimed to cause her harm would have to answer to him first and that, well, it's enough to give them a headstart.

"So, tell me, how did she stay safe in there? Have you figured it out yet?" She looks positively excited, which throws Allison off.

"I'm a nephalim," Allison glares at her, "and I'm not the only one."

"Oh, I know, I killed a few of you, just for target practice. Well, no, I'm not being honest. I did it for fun. Speaking of honesty," Lilith's chest touches Lucifer's, as she looks up at him and he looks down at her, bored. Lilith whispers, "Tell me, does she know about the baby yet?"

"You stay away from us," Allison all but growls, and the squeeze from Lucifer's hand tells her to shut up.

Lilith turns her face to smile at her, "Oh, sorry, no can do. See, Lucifer and I made a deal."

Those words...they make Allison hold her breath.

_No,_ she looks up at John who will not meet her eyes. _It can't be._

"Oh, yes, see, in exchange for helping him find a new life...so he could start one with you, too bad that lasted, what, two days?" She shrugs, "Well, he now owes me a favor. Of course, being Lucifer, he had a condition. I couldn't ask for anything involving you, but...that doesn't mean I can't ask one that involves him."

"And what would that be?" Lucifer's face is emotionless, even though he can feel the anger and despair coming from Allison, he has to remain unaffected.

"Why, you, silly," Lilith pokes his chest, taking a step back, "I want you, to serve as my general, to obey my every command as my general, and to lead us in the coming battle. You may not be able to harm her for me, but if you're fighting on my side, then it hardly matters when I can take her from you without your assistance, or permission."

Before he can react, Allison gives him another reason to believe her to be unequivocally foolish. She moves to stand in front of him, shoving Lilith back, her eyes burning with a rage that makes even Lilith gape in surprise.

"You stay away from him."

"Allison," he puts a hand over her shoulder, but Allison shrugs it off, looking back at him and even _he_ sees it. It's small, but there, a speckle of red, like a beam, a small fire...if there was ever any doubt, there is none now, she's definitely with child - _his_ child - and, somehow, it makes him want to protect her even more...protect them _both._

"No! She will not have you!" Allison's voice echoes, surprising even her, as a strange surge of power tingles in her fingertips.

"Oh," Lilith smiles, unaffected, "well, the mother to be is beginning to understand how special her child is. But, tell me, how special are your recent acquaintances to you?"

Allison narrows her eyes, ever so defiant, "Very. And don't even bother trying to hurt them. They're safe. I left them with another nephalim. Whatever mind games you have for them, they'll survive it."

Lilith laughs, a hand over her mouth, "My, my, I thought you had it figured out," she looks at Lucifer; his expression looks none too happy. "No! Really? You figured it out but you never told her?"

Allison's voice gets caught in her throat as she turns around, facing Lucifer, "Told me what?"

"This." Lilith snaps her fingers and, in seconds, a group of fallen rush into the church and Allison hears screams, screams she _recognizes_. One of them screams her name.

_Laura._

She's frozen in the spot - there's nothing she can do now - and she looks at Lucifer, accusingly, her voice breaking, "You told me she was a nephalim."

"Oh, I'm sure he told you nothing but the truth, dear," Lilith's arms are crossed, smiling, "but it wasn't your birthright that protected them. Do you really think a nephalim would be more important than the child of a former arch _and_ a nephalim? Careful, Allison, pride is now _my_ domain."

"Stop," Lucifer's voice cuts the tension between them. "I will join you, but allow me a few moments to say goodbye."

Allison's furious, but her rage is spiraling, directed at them both."What-no, you bitch!" Allison's about to try and claw Lilith's eyes out, but Lucifer stops her - he regrets it immediately, as he would've enjoyed seeing that, but it'll only doom her. She then directs her rage at him, "you bastard, you son of a-you can't-this can't-you can't!"

Lucifer grabs her hands, holds them against his chest, and he tries to choose his words wisely, "I have to say goodbye, Allison. Once I begin to fulfill the deal I have made, I will no longer be who you think I am. I'll be a soldier, a fallen, the first. That is whom she wants. I will not harm you, but I will fulfill whatever tasks she gives me...and those tasks, Allison, they will not be the kind you would condone. Say goodbye to me now," and he leans into her ear, "Say goodbye to **John**."

Allison's tears fall down her cheeks and she shakes her head, squeezing his hands, "Why is it the deals we make to protect each other are the very things that drive us apart?"

Lucifer smiles, kissing her fingertips, "Because, Allison, we are the unfortunate ones, to have fallen not once, but twice."

When he pulls her face to him, she's expecting the kiss to break her heart, to tear her to pieces, to make her want to fight each and every last fallen trying to take him from her. Instead, she opens her eyes to find herself in the middle of nowhere, mountains and rocky hills, the sound of a river not too far away, but no Lucifer.

She blinks, stupefied.

"Hello, Allison."

When she turns, her jaw drops. Standing in front of her is, what must be, the second most beautiful angel she's ever seen, the golden hair and beautiful blue eyes giving him an even more angelic aura.

"Who are you?" She releases the breath she'd been holding, finally.

"I am Jophiel. I guard the garden." He offers her his hand, "I am," he sighs, correcting himself, "was a friend of Lucifer's, before he fell. Your child needs protection, which I can provide."

"But Lucifer," she looks behind her, as if expecting a door to suddenly appear, but nothing does. "He needs help. They-I have to-"

"He made his choice." He steps closer to her, his hand still extended, "It is now your turn to make yours. Accept my protection and live to fight another day, or I can return you to their darkness, let them have what Lucifer sacrificed himself for. You will never be safe from Lilith, your child will be at her mercy,** unless** you accept this."

Allison's hand immediately goes to her belly. Lucifer gave himself up for her...does that mean he knew Lilith would be there? Did he really know _they_ would die?

She accepts Jophiel's hand but she knows...she knows she will not stay there for long.

She will find a way out, with or without Lucifer's help, but for now, she'll consider her safety, for the child.

She didn't say goodbye, and she doesn't plan to - not unless it's with her last breath.

She will not stop fighting for him, even if it means fighting against him.

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** While this chapter was, for me, painful to write, I did find satisfaction in the fact that the fallen _are_ fallen. They're not saints. They're not human. They don't believe in mercy and of course, excess is their middle name...so I did have to give them that section of evil. I almost wrote Lou joining them, I really did, because he is a fallen, like the rest of them - one that has found his match, his equal, but would that erase his identity? I was afraid to find out, so hooray for interruptions! But, would he have done it? I think so, yeah, but I really didn't want to be responsible (or witness) to it. I'm weak. As for Lilith, ah, Lilith, she's playing a dangerous game and she's playing it well, or at least, she was, until Lou proved why he's the greatest manipulator of them all. Hope you enjoyed it!


	11. Chapter 10 - I Am Found

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** I am happy I held this fic ransom for as long as I did until I could finish it and proofread. Being able to catch my mistakes, and improve on them, makes me feel better about letting them be read, so that hopefully you can have a better experience from it. I remember also that after the previous chapter, I couldn't write anymore for days. Part of me wanted to change what I did, the other part was afraid to go on after what I did, but after clearing my mind (which usually means play a few video games and/or read a book and/or go on a cleaning/cooking rampage), I finally found the thread I needed to continue. This chapter is a bit dark, but not as dark as the previous ones, I think. It was difficult to write because, well, my memory on bible school is a bit hazy on some things so, again, I took some liberties on the garden, but tried to stay true to the most common facts I do remember. Enjoy.**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10. **I Am Found

* * *

_In the land of Gods and Monsters  
I was an Angel  
Living in the garden of evil  
Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed  
Shining like a fiery beacon_

**"****Gods &amp; Monsters****" Lana Del Rey  
**

* * *

Allison is in a state of shock as Jophiel leads her down a somewhat rocky path. It had only been seconds since her reality crumbled around her; she had a plan: gather nephalims, place them in churches, save as many people as she could - save _him_. And not only did that prove to be a very bad plan, but others had plans of their own, plans she had not been informed about.

Lucifer planned this - he planned _this_, her safety, her appearance in another part of the world. Did he know it had been the baby protecting her, or had that been Lilith's attempt at planting a seed of doubt?

He wouldn't let all of those people die - oh, yes, he _would_ \- or at least, he wouldn't let her become responsible for those she could not save - yes, he _would_, wouldn't he? He is who he is, he's never denied that, but he's changed...she hoped he had, after all, he did die for her once, perhaps this is his way of protecting her again, even if it makes him seem a lot like the same mischievous manipulator she once met at a park.

She really hadn't been given much of a chance to mull it over or question her guardian - jailer? - as Jophiel introduced himself, explained _his_ intentions, making it blatantly clear that he is just fulfilling a favor, one that would keep her, and the baby, safe.

He's not her friend - he's not Lucifer's friend, either - not anymore, at least - and yet, here she is, the "favor".

She has no idea where she is _exactly_, though the four rivers give her a hint; the Pishon, Gihon, Tigris and Euphrates. She knows where she isn't, but it's hard to explain the location of a place many have searched for, but none had found. A river flows through the garden, or so the Bible says, and it splits into four heads...everyone had tried to use that as a map and still came up empty - perhaps because mortal men are not meant to find that which doesn't want to be found.

She's about to see the location of something people have only read about, believed only through faith, but none had found evidence of. Of course, there are still many theories about the Garden of Eden. Where it could have been, or would have been, should it still stand, but there have always been those that believed in its existence; hidden from the eyes of man, guarded by a flaming sword.

Well, Allison had seen the flaming sword, on Jophiel's hip, and as they walk towards a mountain, she notices a shimmer-like light, but it disappears before she can try to discern its source. They're standing in front of a path now. She notices they're starting to get closer to the area with the slope, which she imagines she's going to be trying to climb the higher they get - and the less path they have access to. So, she pulls her hair into a bun - the weather here is a little humid - and before she can take one step forward, he takes her arm, making her stand next to him, and that's when the shimmer returned; as if they were staring into a pool of water during a quake.

The path split open, as if it was just a prop - a very real and tangible stage - revealing an opening, very much like a door, but taller, wider. She path isn't very clear to her, as there are flames covering the entrance like a veil. Jophiel reaches out his hand to it, making the fire part with his touch, like a curtain, and with his other hand he is able to make the space wider.

"Pass, nephalim, and do not touch the flames."

She feels a hot air coming from it, and she wonders how much is from the flame or from what's inside, but she decides to trust Jophiel. Lucifer trusts him, which is saying a lot, or maybe...no, she can't really think about that now.

She is able to slip in, carefully avoiding the flames, but as she goes through, she can feel the heat on her skin, a strange moisture in the air - ironically enough, she's never felt that kind of heat from any of the rooms she saw in hell. It's warm, but it's a comforting warmth, safe.

Once inside, she finds herself in a cave, with a light at the end, but it's too bright, and too far, for her to see past it. She turns her head to look behind her, but Jophiel had already walked through the fire, as it did him no harm, and is standing next to her, facing her, arms crossed.

"There are rules."

She decides to beat him to the first one, "No eating from the Tree of Knowledge. Got it. Though you should probably point it out," in some texts, they say it's an apple, but in others, it had actually been a fig. From the literature she's been able to read, she'd believe fig to be the most true, but the only credible source died many millenniums ago and she doesn't want to be the one to mess _that_ one up a second time.

"You will know it on sight. There are many animals here; do nothing to harm them and they will do nothing to harm you. Due to your," he looks to her stomach, "circumstance, you may attract their attention; you should prepare for it. You are welcome to eat any seed-bearing fruit, and only that."

She nods, unsurprised, as from what she has read, life in the Garden of Eden had been more for herbivores than anything else.

"And you will disrobe."

That makes her head whip to face him, "Excuse me?"

His face is expressionless, so at least he's not laughing at her. "Disrobe. This is the garden. He is allowing you to use the gift bestowed once upon your kind, even after you yielded to temptation. You will humble yourself before Him; behave yourself as they should have."

"There's a difference," she says, whispering, as if it would keep Him from listening, "I'm already **damned** with the gift of knowledge. I can't just pretend to **be** them. I'll know I'm naked and it'll feel really weird having an animal press its face against my vagina." The fact she just said vagina, out loud, to an angel, isn't lost on her. She feels if John - no, not John, _Lucifer_ \- were here, he'd probably get a kick out of it.

"Very well, nephalim," his smile is strange, insincere, and it tells her more than he bothers to say.

"You're not coming," she asks, finally, after what seemed like a thirty-second-long staring contest.

"I am not your companion. I am not your friend. I am not here to serve you. I am its guardian, not yours."

"Okay," she looks away from him, as he confirms what she already knew - she's not here on holiday. She's trapped.

"What'll happen...to Lucifer?" She meets his eyes, trying to see his reaction.

There's a slight change, the features of his face showing some regret, "The Succubus won't kill him. She will use him. We may have to fight against him once more. Then his fate shall be decided."

"What fate? This isn't his fight, you know. He renounced all of it. They made a deal. She tricked him. He was trying to protect me, to do the right thing, for once. Do you understand? He's not on their side, not anymore." She _hopes_, but part of her fears, if Lucifer stays with them for too long, he might go back to his old ways...he might enjoy it.

She looks at the curtain of flames - she'd be an idiot to try and walk through it.

"Why do you care so much if the damned remains damned, or better yet, if he is freed from his chains and finally meets his true death?" Jophiel's eyes are hard on hers and she feels the fear surge through her body, and then something surges back - action and reaction - it's anger and hormones.

"Because he belongs to me, and I to him. Because God created him. He was as loved as all of His creations, but Lucifer made a bad choice. We all do. The difference is, we're forgiven. We **can** earn His forgiveness. But **he** can't. Lucifer never will. You tell me of the darkness and rage that would boil within you if you knew your Father, whom you loved, who created you, gives you a punishment so great that deprives you of the love you once knew, turning you into the very evil everyone hates, but everyone forgets who put him there. It's hypocritical." She's hugging herself, shaking, because she's so angry or, because for the first time since she can remember, she's defending him from God.

That's a first.

"Interesting. You were ever so devout in the beginning, a simpleton, and honorable. What makes you see any good in so much evil, when even you have blood on your hands?"

She swallows, remembering how much blood that is, "Because, the darker the room, the more brilliant the light can be. Don't you admire something that can be good, in spite of so much evil? It proves...evil isn't something you are, it's something you choose to be."

"We shall see." He takes a step back, into the wall, and then he's gone but Allison swears she can hear a chuckle.

Allison sighs, rubbing her arms for heat and friction as she descends down the slope. The closer she gets to the light, the more she can see - _hear_. She hears birds, flowing water, a raging river perhaps, and that's when she realizes the wall of the cave is starting to get damp the closer she gets. She has her hand on one of the walls, as the cave starts getting narrow, and once she can actually see, her jaw drops.

It's a forest - a tropical forest - full of wild plants, flowers, fruit-bearing trees, big enough to cast the perfect shade and a river; it should've looked intimating, scary and somewhat massive, but to her, it feels like a little piece of heaven. It makes her feel calm.

It takes a moment for her to realize she's crying as she steps into the paradise before her and she covers her mouth when she sees a lion, majestic. She reaches out her hand to him; the lion approaches, his yellowish, almost orange, eyes gazing into her own.

He presses his face, his forehead, onto her belly, and she can feel him tremble - or is it her? - as he purrs against her.

It's in that moment that he lets her touch him and she feels...she feels at a loss for words; for once in her schizophrenic life, there are no voices, no fears, no thoughts or impulses.

There's just this.

Paradise.

She falls on her knees and something inside her surges, releases, and she sighs, eyes closed, as everything she was is left behind and there's just _this._

* * *

In the darkness, he walks, hands in his pockets, nothing but the sound of his footsteps, the wind sighing against him and the moon only half-present, the stars dim and blood red.

It hasn't been so bad, he admits. Being Lilith's little plaything doesn't bother him in the least. It's not unfamiliar territory, if he's honest - they did have very good honeymoon phase a very _long_ time ago - and what she asks of him is nothing he never asked of her at some point.

She's not making him kiss puppies or save sheep.

In truth, he commends Lilith for the use of his debt to her. In this, he is not her enemy, but his pet, and Lilith's pets often live comfortably - at least, those she likes and still respects.

And then there's the fact that she's not an idiot. Lucifer has a title, one he earned by rebelling, and while hers is also well-earned, it can't be said that a demon can stand over a former arch.

It's the nature of the food chain, one that she's been trying to rebel against to no avail. In fact, being in hell again has proven very fruitful, allowing Lucifer to be privy to details that make him understand why there's a rebel group against Lilith. She hasn't been the best successor since his death. He had thought that she would be, as she always had been quite loyal and a student of chaos, but she's also very proud, and lets her emotions cloud her judgment in ways that underestimate those around her. Lucifer may have always been proud - it is, after all, _why_ he fell - but he seldom underestimated those below him, he didn't make them kiss his feet or grovel or _beg_. Lilith is taking his throne and making it a monarchy, forgetting very well that a king, or queen, can only have a great reign as long as those around him remain...content.

After all, what is a King without his subjects?

Lucifer reaches a fork in the road and stops, looking at the building up ahead.

It's empty, like many of the buildings in the city. Most cities are now deserted, though some remain, in certain states. Lilith has given some of the fallen dominion over certain areas - districts, she calls them - and some mortals are allowed to exist there, if not for the benefit and entertainment of their betters.

They try to coerce people, to tempt them into their little world - recruiting them into their little armies - and unless Lucifer is given a task of actual importance, it doesn't take very long to complete it and, after the task is completed, he takes some time of his own to simply walk about the earth, alone.

This was his apartment complex for a time. The plants that used to gallantly stand by the doors are dead, the only evidence they were ever there being the pots that had once cradled them, now broken. There are pieces of glass on the sidewalk, from the windows, making the wind create the sort of sounds you would hear from a haunted house. The building groans, calling him inside, but he decides not to.

That's two days. Two days he's talked himself out of going inside, ever since he pressed his lips against hers, ever since she disappeared.

That was nearly three months ago.

The shriek that pierced the air after his little trick cost him a whipping, but Lilith only got two lashes in before Beelzebub and the others arrived - against Lucifer's owns orders, which is something he'll berate the cherub for at a later point in time.

Lucifer would've gleefully taken the whipping, if only to demonstrate that he feels no pain - that she can cause him no pain that could compare to the pain of defeat, of falling, of losing _her_.

Lilith then had two choices: to fight a battle against Lucifer's loyal followers and risk others from her pool choosing the opposite side, thus inciting a rebellion sooner rather than later - after all, some of them had _just_ discovered their Prince was alive - or she could unite them, by losing face, and stopping her punishment.

Poor little Lilith, sometimes you have to lose face and go to war, if only to ensure that those left alive never doubt your rule. After that moment, Beelzebub reported more recruits into their little rebel group, all the while Lilith thought she had united them, by taking him in.

_You have to know when to choose your battles, Lilith. Now you may have lost the war._

He smiles - it's been a while since he meant one - and that's when he feels her, a few steps behind him, like a cat; she's always been the sneaky one.

"Procel, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He hears her giggle in the wind, but she's no longer behind him, and he turns around, his eyes calm but searching. He feels her again, standing behind him once more. "I don't recall this shyness nonsense when you served me."

"That's because you never visit." Her fingers touch his shoulder, just the fingertips, and she's letting her fingers caress their way onto his chest as her body moves around him, until she's standing right in front of him, the vision of feline beauty, such grace, such innocence, it's hard to believe what she really is.

He forces a smile, keeping her eyes on her hands, "You never gave me a reason to."

"And so I gave you a reason not to?" Her eyes shoot up, wide, and there's an eerie look to them.

"Your loyalties, or lack thereof, weren't the most inviting." And it's the truth. With her gifts, he could've already taken the earth and blown it to hell before Allison's parents were even conceived, but when Procel fell, hers became a madness of knowledge. She sees things, she understands things in ways not most would, and rather than give the information to her master, she would rather swallow it - quite literally, she wrote secrets on a piece of paper once and ate them. The attempt to extract them proved unpleasant and worthless...she only ate it again, and the hand of the fallen who tried to retrieve it. Even though she proved useless to him when it came to her gift of foresight, and she would not obey him in every sense of the word, she was still one of his own, a fallen, having fought in his war and lost. For that alone, he had given her his protection, but he never did trust her, simply allowed her to play with the things she wanted to play; since it often led damned souls to his door, he never complained.

Why she's helping Lilith, and _how_, Lucifer doesn't know, but if he knows Procel...he knows she's not _helping_ Lilith, but entertaining herself, to what ends, that's the question of the hour, and he knows she'll never tell.

"In your eyes, I am someone, but is it who I am?"

"Why are you following me?"

"I am curious," she smiles, pressing her palm against his chest.

"Careful, you do know what they say," he nods to a group of skeletons at the end of the sidewalk. Probably someone's leftover lunch.

"And since when have you listened to anything they have to say?" Off his smirk, probably a nod to her quip, she continues, "As I said, I am curious. I thought you'd have some difficulty in your return, but you slid back into the same dark suit with incomparable ease."

He shrugs, "I am what I am."

"But is that who you are?"

He has a feeling he knows where this is going, "If who you are defines what you are, shouldn't it also be said that what you are defines who you are?"

"But what you are can never change who you are, you simply adapt, allow it to adorn you, like a Christmas tree," she says, feigning delight - though it almost looks genuine, disturbingly so. "But you can change what you are, and it will only change certain things about you, but never the core. So, tell me, Lucifer, has she reminded you of the arch you once were, or has it always been there, waiting, in the dark?"

"I'd tell you to wash your mouth with soap, but it's a little too late for that," he starts to walk away, knowing this isn't a battle of wits he's keen on having any time soon.

She chuckles, covering her mouth with her hand, "Lucifer. There is something you should know."

He stops walking, he stops moving, he stops _breathing_. He's not afraid of Procel, of course not, but when Procel tells you to listen, you _listen_.

"You have changed. They don't see it. I don't see it. But I can feel it; under my fingertips. Your heart beats differently now. It's almost as if you've experienced..." She licks her fingers, smacking her lips for a taste, "Hope. Hmmm, too bad, like most hopes, they do have a way of dying...I know where she is, Lucifer, and she will return."

And on those words, he turns, ready to seize her neck with his cold, bare hands, but she has gone - of course she has - and she has left behind yet another mystery.

_She_ will return.

It can't be. No one can get past Jophiel, not since he was placed there, after Lucifer's own uninvited visit - not _once_ \- has anyone gotten through. And Allison wouldn't be so stupid as to try to escape.

He sighs, _oh, yes, she would._

* * *

Allison's hair has gotten longer, almost five inches, and it's fallen like a curtain over her skin, which suits her nicely as it covers her breasts and often serves as entertainment for the monkeys.

She's forgotten all about Lucifer, about Lilith, about angels and demons, and all she knows is..._this_. From the moment she befriended the lion, stepped out of the cave, her mind had been left behind, her memories, leaving her with a feeling of serenity and ignorance - _bliss_.

She sleeps on the grass, naked, accompanied by a lion most of the time, one that she feels like she's known...all her life, since the very moment of her creation.

She knows there's a child growing inside of her - another her, a miracle of life, given to her by her Father - and it's almost ready, she knows, the size of her belly making her awkward and tired very often, but rest is easy to achieve when she's here.

She knows only peace, the fruit she eats always fills her, and she never thinks of anything else but running in the plains, of running with the horses, of hiding from the ferrets who enjoy playing hide and seek very often.

She has no perception of time, no thought of anything beyond what she sees.

Except, one night, the female ferret is nuzzling her stomach, her cold wet nose waking Allison from a strange dream. There's always a man in her dreams. A handsome man, a man with great power, but a cruel man, with eyes that both excite and terrify her...she just can't remember who he is or what he is, for that matter.

She props up her head, blinking away the dream as she looks down at the ferret, the moonlight making it possible to discern the culprit of her wake-up call, even in the dark.

"What is it?" She reaches down to scratch the ferret's head, but the ferret moves away, standing on her feet, running away, and then stopping, turning around.

Allison recognizes the game, but is surprised that she wants to play _now_. Still, it's not an unfamiliar game, and Allison is grateful for the diversion - anything to keep her from dreaming those _awful_ dreams.

She follows the ferret, focusing not just on sight, but sound, leaves rustling, her clucking sound leading her closer to the river.

It's not as easy as it used to be - the backaches, the constant cramps, but the pain is not too strong, more like an echo, reminding her of something she's supposed to know but can't recall, for some reason.

Once she walks through a wall of vines, Allison sees a cave on the other side of the river, and standing just by the entrance is her mischievous little ferret.

She doesn't want to cross it - she doesn't understand where that feeling comes from, is it fear for the baby? No. It can't be. The baby will be fine. Everything will be fine. It is all fine here. She's home and her friend is just trying to play hard to get.

She carefully steps on the stones over the water, careful not to slip, keeping her eyes on where her feet are touching, before finally reaching the other side.

When she lifts her gaze, the ferret is gone. She furrows her brow. Could she have gone into the strange cave?

She's not sure what the cave is - to be honest, she's never had a need to go there. Everything she's ever wanted has always been here, in the garden, but now her friend...her dear ferret has gone in.

She just wants to make sure she's okay.

As soon as she takes her foot off the grass and takes that step onto the damp soil, inside the cave, it's like a rush of air reaches her lungs and then travels directly into her mind.

She gasps, falling on her knees; she keeps herself from falling face down by bracing herself with her hands, but she's still breathing rapidly, scared, as every memory spirals into her in one fell swoop.

Once her breathing goes back to normal, she crawls to the wall, sitting with her back to it, and touching her stomach.

Now that she knows - she _remembers _\- she knows she's almost at full term. She can't be sure, time doesn't seem right here, but it all makes sense.

From the corner of her eye, she sees something moving outside the entrance of the cave, and it's the ferret, staring at her in wonder.

Her eyes water and it takes everything she has to look away.

She could go back, to them, to paradise, and raise their child with no knowledge of Lucifer, of wars or victories, of _deaths_. But it's not that simple, is it? It never is.

She looks into the cave, away from the ferret and the life she had for so long, and in a pile, she sees her clothes.

"Son of a bitch," she mutters under her breath. She doesn't remember taking her clothes off - the memories involving the garden are hazy, like a dream - and she doesn't remember bringing them here.

Jophiel must've known, once she entered the garden, she would forget.

Then why bother with the rules?

_Misdirection_, she thinks. She did exactly what he wanted her to do - had he told her the truth, of everything she would forget, would she have gone in?

She doubts it.

And now? Now she's aware again.

"**Allison,**" she hears her name, the voice of a child reaching her ears with an eerie melody, like a song.

It's no coincidence she followed the ferret here, and it's no coincidence that someone is calling her name, calling her out.

As she walks deeper into the cave, she can feel it moving - the entrance - and she sees the fire in front of her, sees the image of a young boy on the other side.

Is it Lilith, trying to deceive her? And where is Jophiel? Isn't he supposed to be guarding her - or the garden, at the very least?

"Hello, Allison." Someone else joins the child, a young woman with a sinister smile, arms crossed. "Are you ready to come with us?"

"Who are you?"

The little boy giggles, and it makes her dizzy somehow, but she shakes her head, staying away from the fire, and from them.

"We're friends of Lucifer. He's in more danger than he knows, but you can save him. We can get you to him, so you can help him," the young woman sounds nowhere close to genuine - if anything, she sounds amused.

Allison shakes her head again, "If Lucifer wanted me to help him, he would've come himself."

That makes them both smile. It's the young boy who speaks first, "Come out, Allison. We only want to help."

That's when she feels it, a cramp so bad it almost knocks her off her feet. She takes a deep breath, then another, deep slow breath.

"Come with us, or the baby will die."

"No," she growls, gritting her teeth, trying to stand the shockwave of the pain. "I won't let you have my child."

"It will be safe, now come with us." The young girl urges her, her face almost touching the flames.

She shakes her head, "I don't trust you."

"Then trust me," the young boy speaks, and Allison looks up, and sees the boy transforming into pure fire, his eyes black, "I will keep him safe, until the war is won."

Another cramp hits, this one stronger than the last, and she screams her answer into the air, "No!"

The earth around her trembles and, one moment, she's falling on the ground, and the next, she feels something wet under her, like she fell on a puddle.

She can't see the outside of the cave anymore, but she hears growling - screaming - and something that sounds like lightning...no, someone fighting.

"John," she whispers in fear, and then another cramp hits her, and she screams his name, his true name, "Lucifer!" She's not thinking, she's not really bothering to think on anything but the pain that's captured her entire body - it's almost like she's on fire and there's a thousand needles puncturing her body.

She does the only thing she knows how to do, at this point.

She pushes.

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** Ah, but of course, not even paradise lasts forever the second time around, does it? Now, Procel is, for me, a joy to write, though I don't write her often for good reason - she's crazy and her allegiances are, well, questionable - if I used her more often, you'd know more than I want you to know! And was I the only one that found hilarious the fact that Allison and Lou think the same of each other? That "_Oh, yes, he would_" and "_Oh, yes, she would_" made me giggle even as I wrote it. They're both so stubborn, so bold, so passionate, it's really to no surprise, they both know what they're capable of. At this point, I hope you're not on the edge of a heart attack, but if you are, then I might be doing something right...until the next! (And, for any of those that celebrate it, have a happy Thanksgiving!)


	12. Chapter 11 - Of Sorcerers and Fallen

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's** **Note: **Thank you again, for your kind words, and for making me smile! And yes, Procel is important and someone that, should my muse push for another sequel, would finally become more of a recurring character rather than a mischievous mystery that keeps everyone guessing (and, no, she's not insane in the strictest sense of the word, but she enjoys pretending to be, if only for the sake of keeping others guessing). As for the name of Allison's baby...we'll find out soon enough, and trust me, it took me a while to settle on a name because, well, what name could you give the child of a fallen arch and a nephalim? Tough!

Also, in this chapter, I realized how much my inspiration depends on the music I listen to, and how carefully I choose the verses I do for each chapter. Granted, more often than not, the entire song doesn't apply to the chapter (sometimes, the mood of it doesn't, or it does), but that's why I choose the verses, and in this one, well, I may either delight you or earn a few odd glances. The route that I'll be taking from here on out is unconventional, I know, but my muse found it to be a necessary route, so hopefully, it's not too off-putting. It really made me stop and think, before I could write out the rest of the series, and question whether I really wanted to do this but then I thought, "yeah, why not?"

* * *

**Chapter 11.** Of Sorcerers and Fallen

* * *

_Welcome to_  
_The church of what's happening now_  
_Head straight through_  
_It costs nothing but change_

"**The Church of What's Happening Now**"** Sia**

* * *

After destroying a rebel base in Ireland, Lucifer almost regretted the end of the red-haired sheep - as if those humans would ever go down peacefully. He admires them, almost, clearly the perfect recruits for hell's army. The mortals had fought against demons and actually killed a small few, before they were swallowed whole by a hellmouth Lucifer had called forth - following orders, after all.

He had watched them burn, watched them scream and cry out to their God, but God did not come.

The entire earth is burning, crying out to the sky, to Lilith's delight, and their God is nowhere to be seen.

Not that Lucifer cares - no, the one thing he cares about is somewhere else, hiding.

He hasn't seen Procel since that night.

He had wanted to go to Jophiel himself but he knew better - Lilith may be playing nice for appearance's sake, but he knows she keeps an eye on him, trying to exhaust any resources that may lead her to Allison, to their child. He couldn't risk it. For all he knows, Procel might be the very tool meant to accomplish just that, to play at his one fear - losing Allison - and waiting for him to lead her there. If he is to shake her spies, his efforts need to go into something less obvious - if his efforts should fail, he should at least not hand over Allison on a silver platter.

He has no choice; his only choice, at the time, was to leave it all to faith - isn't that a laughable concept? - that Jophiel would not fail him in protecting Allison.

But he wouldn't leave it all to chance - he _won't_ \- especially knowing that very few could accomplish the feat of protecting someone if the person meant to be protected decided to act foolishly.

"She's probably fine," Beelzebub mutters to him, their backs to a wall in an empty train station, the lights flickering.

"She better be," he mumbles back, "I don't take kindly to acts of idiocy."

Beelzebub snorts at that, "Seriously? Lucifer, I could make you a list of idiotic things we've all done."

To that, he grins, recalling a few memories of his own, "You mistake idiocy for strategy, friend."

Their smiles fade after they hearing the sound of an oncoming train - there hasn't been a train running for so long, with no human to run it, that they know what it means.

_It's time._

They walk towards the tracks, waiting, watching as it passes by them at an unbelievable speed; their coats flap in the wind as the train disappears.

Their intention hadn't been to get on it, but to wait for who would come off it.

"Lucifer," a woman's voice speaks behind them.

Lucifer smiles before turning around to greet his new acquaintance. "Nimue. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, in the flesh."

She's wearing a hooded dark blue cloak and throws the hood back, revealing a mane of white, almost platinum, hair, eyes of the most brilliant blue and her skin proving her to be a lady of the hidden isles. Even though she's human, clearly, she looks like she could pretend to be so much more - considering the magick that runs through her veins, he's willing to bet she has achieved much more than mere humanity by now.

"I would say the same, were the circumstances of our acquaintance not as they are now."

"Wow." Beelzebub breathes, "Azazel did not do you justice."

Nimue quirks a brow, "He has done much worse than you think, as he has acquired a necromancer to rouse the rest of my sisters for the sake of your army." Beelzebub makes a face, clearly disappointed that their new ally isn't really up to speed with their sense of humor.

Lucifer ignores their conversation, for now, going straight to the point, "Do you have everything you need?"

She unties a bag from her waist, kneeling down and spreading the contents over the ground, "Yes, everything except two items which, I believe, you were entrusted to provide."

"Two?" Lucifer tries not to imagine his hands around Azazel's neck, and fails, "I had only been informed of one, it will have to do."

Nimue smiles, but it's a slow smile, with a deviousness neither fallen had expected, and then it dazzled them as she bared her teeth with her smile, "Of course. Azazel did not inform you of the second because it is already a part of you. Your blood, Lucifer; it is also the blood of your unborn child."

"Blood? The Lady of the Lake dabbling in dark magick, for me? Why, Nimue, I'm touched." While the concept is not unfamiliar, and Nimue's acquaintance with Azazel had very little innocence, she had chosen the side of light in the end, to Azazel's dismay.

She rolls her eyes, "Do not flatter yourself, Lucifer. You and your kind have created a world of darkness. If my brethren and I are to survive, and remain hidden, we must dabble in the dark arts, for any sign of light, in this darkness, will be easily found. You have yourselves to blame for our damnation."

"The guilt is killing me already," Beelzebub mumbles, smiling, and it makes Lucifer chuckle.

"Very well," Lucifer approaches her, pulling from his pocket a picture he had found in Allison's home - her _first_ home.

He watches as the sorceress works her ritual magick.

Witches. Sorcerers. Wizards. Warlocks. They're all the same kind of sheep to him, with substantial supernatural talents. But, Azazel helped inspire their creation, for that they have earned an ounce of his admiration, as did he. Granted, the skill itself had always lied within them, waiting for the right moment to emerge, so Azazel couldn't take all the credit. One of his favorite time periods were the witch hunts, the precious line in his holy book, "Thou shall not suffer a witch to live," was largely interpreted to kill all those possessing such a gift, but man, had he had an ounce of conscience and consideration, would've understood, that had been meant to condemn the use of magick in Egypt, used for sedition and seduction. Leave it to sheep to not consider the application of magick and dispensation of said knowledge - not that he minded, of course. The more the gifted were oppressed, the more he could use it to his advantage, and if a witch meant to do good died at the hands of the ignorant, he'd hardly call _that_ a loss.

After all, God, in His almighty brilliance, made it so mortals always have their precious free will. You could give them the knowledge to do all the evil in the world and, in the end, they could choose to use that skill for good rather than evil. Nimue had been one of those sorcerers, even if she did stray from the path from time to time. Oh, myths were spun about her existence, some of them true, some of them not entirely so, but one thing would always be true: Nimue had been one of the few lovers Azazel truly loved - so much so, Lucifer had to tell him to bring Nimue to him, twice, before he finally obeyed.

"It is finished. Now, for the last ingredient," she stands up, looking down on her handiwork. It was a pentacle, each corner with a different item representing each element she was to call upon, and in the middle, Allison. She had used a powder to bind the ingredients, and he had heard her incantation, understanding the ancient language.

Lucifer locks eyes with Beelzebub, who nods before disappearing; he had planned this perfectly, ensuring that they were not seen or followed, a guard in every corner ensuring it remained that way. If someone did discover them, he'd be surprised - possibly try to recruit them himself.

But it's a risk worth taking, he has to know - he would not leave it all to chance, to _faith_.

He offers her his hand and she takes it without hesitation, her face solemn, as she holds his hand over the symbol. She whispers the incantation with such elegance, he almost admires Azazel's good taste. When she pulls out the knife from her belt, he's ready, and she presses the knife against his hand, and then makes the cut, until enough drops of his blood cover the picture.

It catches on fire.

The entire star catches on fire as she continues the incantation, her eyes white.

Lucifer takes his hand back, licking the blood away, knowing it would heal, in time. He watches the flames for a sign, for anything, that will give him the answer he seeks.

When the fire finally dies, Nimue's eyes are back to normal, her eyebrows furrowed.

"What did you see?" He's standing next to her now, close enough to smell the sweat on her brow.

She turns, returning his gaze, "She is safe. For now."

He lets out a breath of relief, one he didn't know he'd been holding, "Did you happen to see an angel with her?"

Lucifer made sure no one knew the details of her location, as he didn't consider the information necessary for the task at hand, but he had to know.

She frowns, choosing her words carefully, "Yes."

Lucifer can sense her concern - he can smell it. "What is it? What did you see?"

"The child has been born." She speaks plainly.

That fills him with a feeling he has never felt - one he cannot name - but it starts in his chest, squeezing him, lifting him, spreading over him wildly. He swallows, "And? Is the child all right?" It's a bit early, he realizes, but he recalls a very important detail: time flows differently within the Garden of Eden, very much so.

She nods, "Yes. They are both safe, for now, her guardian is watching over them."

That catches his attention. Lucifer is nothing but attentive. His reign had been fruitful only because he listened, he interpreted and he observed so much. And right now, something told him to revisit that statement.

"**Her** guardian?" Lucifer knows Jophiel is nobody's guardian. He guards the garden. He allowed Allison to take shelter there, but he did not promise to guard her so much as he granted Lucifer the one request of letting him hide her there. "What guardian might you be referring to?"

And by the look on her eyes, he knows he's going to have to be persuasive. He stands behind her, his hands on her shoulders, squeezing. He leans forward, his lips almost brushing over her ear, "Understand this, sorceress, I know Azazel had to nearly tear the world apart to find your bones and pull your soul back into our realm, but I can assure you, deceive me, and not only will I ensure your soul rots in hell, but I will grant Azazel his secret desire of marking you as his own, even if I have to hand you over to him myself."

Her voice is steady, brave, "I do not know where she is, there were no indicators of her location, but I saw them both, safe, watched over by him."

"Can you name him?" On her silence, he yells, "Name him!"

"I believe..." She sighs, in defeat, "she called him Simon."

_Simon_.

Well, that's an interesting development. He walks away in thought.

Part of him wants to punch a hole in the wall, as this means Allison has been found and there is a high chance she's no longer in the garden, she can't be. The fact that this spell worked at all told him that. The last witch - a mortal, an amateur at best - that attempted to see the location of the garden had died - the sight of it had burned her mind and heart, and Lucifer had hoped...this time, it could be done by a professional, and Allison would be there, safe.

And yet, another part of him knows she's safe, wherever she may be. Simon may be one of His soldiers, but he is Allison's guardian. She is safe...they are safe, for now.

"Lucifer, before I take my leave, there is something I wish to say," Nimue collects her things, weaving a simple incantation to allow the wind to disperse the ashes of their little spell. "I may not know all of the details within your plans, but you must know, my sisters are not obeying you because we are outnumbered or defeated. Azazel did not succeed in bringing my soul to earth. The Gods allowed it. We are **not** assisting you."

He smiles, and turns to face her, hands behind his back, "Thank you, Nimue. Your sincerity is entertaining, but unnecessary. I assure you, I am aware of this, and much more."

She blinks in surprise, "And yet, you trust us?"

He walks towards her, until he's right beside her, his head turned so he can look directly into her eyes, seeing the sincerity within, "I am not Azazel, Nimue. You and I have not met before today, though I know you very well, it's time for you to know me. I trust no one. In my long and tiresome existence, one thing I have learned, the more I fight His divine plan, the more I walk right into it. For now, my intent is simple. I will keep Allison safe, and our child. I fight this battle not for you, not for this forsaken place and its inferiority. I am on whatever side promises her peace, whether it be with or without me." To that, Nimue quirks a brow. "And now that business is done, I must ask of you something that I cannot ask of anyone else. I am bound to Lilith by a debt."

"And I should be the one to break it?"

"No," he puts his hands in his pockets, "You can't. If my word was so easily broken, I couldn't have acquired as many souls as I have in all my time of making profitable business exchanges. You can, however, kill me." Her eyes widen and he chuckles, "Oh, yes, you can. Ask Azazel for a spellbook, the darkest he has ever written, capable of ripping away the immortality of any fallen, weakening even me. If you can undo my immortality, you can kill me, and you must. There is a war coming. Heaven will be but a spectator of this war until a winner is decided, then, the final battle will begin."

"I would think you'd want to live to see that final battle. Why not ask me to cast that spell upon whom you are bound to?"

He shakes his head, laughing, "And take back the very reign I let go of? No, this chaos, while delectable, will have its end, and if I am its master, then Allison will be my undoing, and as sweet a death as that will be, it will destroy her, destroy whatever good memory remains of us. I cannot," he sighs, thinking of Allison, of the child - _their _child. "I cannot make that choice again - I will not hurt her more than I absolutely have to."

"You plan to wage war against Lilith and yet, you wish to perish rather than fight alongside your men, all to preserve the love of a woman? Why not fight for her, fight them, fight the Succubus," she questions in confusion.

"I can't fight them, that is the deal I am bound to. However, Beelzebub and Azazel can, and they will, but I know that their loyalty will be their undoing. I will have to fight **them**. Lilith will command me and I," he looks away, gritting his teeth, hating the truth of his words, "I will have no choice. As I'm sure you're aware, I would rather fall into the pits of hell again than have my will taken from me. Find that spellbook, rid me of my immortality, and then kill me, for I will have no choice but kill **them**."

"I will do what I can," she swallows, studying his face, the despair he tries to hide behind the lines of his face. "I must say, for someone who accuses this world of mediocrity, you reveal feelings, actions that only this world has shown...you are sacrificing yourself for those you love. I expected someone without heart, but you have surprised me, Lucifer."

"Don't insult me, sorceress," he grins, "Go, and stay alive, for both our sakes."

She bows her head, which makes him quirk a brow. "Goodbye, Lucifer, and may the God and Goddess have mercy on your soul."

He watches her disappear, with a simple gust of a wind, and smiles, passing his hand through his hair, "Funny, considering He's the one that damned it," he mutters to himself.

The lights in the subway flicker as he makes his way up the steps. He knows if anyone can bring Azazel to his knees, it will be Nimue, and if someone can do the right thing by killing him before he kills them all, it will be Nimue. With his death, Lilith's own soldiers will fall back, and his death will serve its purpose.

He's not doing this to be noble; he's not doing this only to spare the life of those he calls his brothers.

He's doing this to end Lilith, to end her reign, for as long as she lives and reigns, Allison and the child will never be safe. After that, he will trust whatever plan He has, he will grant mercy on the only person that matters to him - the rest, well, they've earned their just rewards, just as he has earned his.

Beelzebub is at the top of the stairs, watchful, arms crossed. "Is it done?"

"It's done," he replies.

"So, this is goodbye."

Lucifer smiles. Clearly, Beelzebub knows him well.

"The time is near. Lilith will be watching me closer now that I've managed to slip away for her spies for once. You cannot contact me, under any circumstances."

"Radio silence, huh," Beelzebub scratches his chin, "I don't know. Sounds kind of dangerous. I might be tempted to go into a whorehouse, bite into a few thighs thinking it's a chicken leg."

Lucifer chuckles, "You'll do fine without my lead. Follow your common sense, what's left of it, and Nimue."

At her name, Beelzebub pushes down his shades to the edge of his nose, locking eyes with Lucifer, "Follow the sorceress? You're joking, right?"

"I wish I was," Lucifer smiles, "but the sorceress has admirable skills, besides, helping me will help keep a child from harm, and you know how sorcerers are about innocent children. She will prove useful against Lilith, and once Lilith is dealt with, we send them back where they came from."

"Sounds like a plan, brother," they stand across each other, and Beelzebub extends his arm, so that Lucifer grips his forearm and Beelzebub does the same, as they used to do thousand of years ago, before a great battle. "I'll look for you in the battlefield."

"I will do the same, though, don't touch the face," Lucifer grins.

"As you wish, my Prince," Beelzebub's bow is comical, and clearly insincere, but it serves its purpose as they both smile and walk away in opposite directions.

Lucifer hopes, a hope that enrages as it remains out of his control, he never sees Beelzebub's face in battle.

* * *

When Allison feels consciousness slip in, her body feels weak, achy, her throat dry, and once the physical assessment is made, her mind snaps. She sits up, alert, eyes open, and a moan escapes her lips as she feels herself falling back onto the mattress.

"Allison? Allison, can you hear me?"

She blinks again, her eyes watering due to the instant pain she felt, but when she finally opens them fully, rubbing her eyes, she sees him sitting on the edge, leaning over her.

"Simon." She pulls him to her - she doesn't think she's ever touched him before this day - but she's so relieved to see him, she buries her face into his neck.

She remembers hell. The apocalypse. Those people...John's last goodbye to her, his return to what he was - _is_ \- Lucifer. Jophiel. Those demons trying to draw her out and the baby. The baby!

She pushes him away, looking down at herself, realizing her belly is gone. "My baby! Where's my baby? Where is my baby!" She's flailing her hands, slapping Simon's chest when he won't let her stand; he has to restrain her, pinning her hands to her sides.

"The baby is fine, Allison. Calm down. She is fine! She's in the other room."

She starts to cry, for no other reason than relief, and he helps her sit up, holds her until her sobs turn into hiccups, his hand on her back.

She sniffles, pulling back, collecting herself so she can finally look at him, really look at him. Simon looks...different somehow. In her living room, he had never been more angelic, his eyes brilliant, his entire demeanor was just...perfect. But now? His eyes are tired, his hair disheveled and he looks like he's starting to grow a beard. More than that, he's not even wearing the usual angelic attire. He's wearing a red plaid shirt - Lucifer would hate missing this moment - and faded blue jeans. He looks...normal.

"How...how did you find us?"

He chuckles, "I looked for trouble and there you were." Off her furrowed brow, he sighs, "We've been watching, Allison. We're always watching. One of Lilith's fallen found you. She's...she's a slippery one. I had no choice. I had to intervene. So, I fell."

"Wait, you what? You fell. As in, _fallen angel_ fell?"

"Hold on there, I didn't fall that far," he smiles, "and I had help. I have to say, if anyone likes to bend the rules, it's Gabriel."

"You...and Gabriel? You saved us?"

"Don't sound so surprised. Gabriel likes you. He doesn't think much of you," he grins, "but he likes you."

"That's comforting," she rolls her eyes, then frowns, "but what about you? What does that mean for you now?"

He shrugs, "I'm mortal. Oh, don't feel bad, Gabriel had quite the laugh at my expense, and after trying to drive for the first time in my life, I owe him breakfast, and since I've never prepared a meal a day in my life, hopefully you'll be able to help with that some day."

"Thank you," she wraps her hands around his, "thank you for saving us."

"You're welcome. Do you...want to see her?"

Allison swallows. Her mind flashes back to the dream she had, the one of her children with John - with _Lucifer_. Those black eyes...she loves that baby as any woman would, but she's afraid...she doesn't know what to expect. She nods, silently, her heart drumming in her chest as she watches him walk towards a door to her right. She hears the sound of a baby cooing in the distance and she tries to be still, to stop fiddling with her hands, to stop worrying.

When Simon comes back, he's holding her, carefully wrapped in a white blanket, cradling her in his arms. He sits on the mattress and, once Allison sees her...she's lost.

The baby's eyes are closed, her fists closed, wrapped in the blanket. She has some hair, dark hair, and her eyebrows are almost non-existent but she has enough for Allison to see the handsome shape they make.

She's absolutely beautiful, radiant, and her cheeks are so adorable, Allison finds herself covering her mouth, trying not to cry again.

"Mommy's being a little hormonal, isn't she?" Simon muses as he cradles the baby, making Allison laugh tearfully. "Do you want to hold her?"

Allison almost says no, but she nods, opening her arms so that Simon can place the baby carefully in the perfect cradling position.

"Hi, hello," Allison cradles her with one arm once she gets her in a comfortable position, and with the other, she touches the baby's face, her little hands, "I'm your mom. Hi, baby," tears stream down her face as the baby opens her hand just enough for Allison to sneak a finger in for her to squeeze, which she does. "I'm so happy to finally meet you." When the baby opens her eyes, slightly, Allison almost feels fear, until she finds herself staring at dark, almost brown, light, eyes. She has her eyes.

She brings her little hand to her lips, kissing it, and laughs, seeing so much of Lucifer - the brilliance of it.

"What are you going to name her?"

Allison doesn't look up, but smiles, in thought and awe of this beautiful gift she's been blessed with. She didn't really have a chance to think of baby names. She didn't really discuss this with Lucifer, either, but she wants to choose a good name, one that will explain the meaning this gift has for her - and also, one that Lucifer won't berate her for. She is their chance at a new beginning, a family, one she never really had.

_Dani._

"Danielle," she brings the small fist to her lips and smiles, "her name is Danielle."

For the family she never had, a brother she lost too soon - a reminder of what she'll never let happen again.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Danielle," Simon touches her forehead carefully, as if blessing her. "I'll leave you two to get better acquainted," he squeezes Allison's shoulder before standing, "She might be hungry."

Allison nods, pushing the strap of the night dress from her shoulder, exposing her breast carefully and leading the baby to the nipple. She bites her lip, hoping this would work, her experience limited to what she's read and seen. She tries squeezing down on it and it does produce liquid. The baby follows instinct, sucking on nothing until she finally finds the nipple. Allison gasps at the feeling of the gums around her nipple, not exactly gentle, but she sucks and sucks, and Allison sighs in relief.

"Simon?" She calls, softly.

The ex-angel peeks from outside the door, "Yes?"

"Thank you," she repeats.

He smiles, standing under the doorway, "You're welcome."

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** I know, mixing mythology/legends with religion, never advisable, but I'm not one to follow the norm (idealist, remember?) and as one who has read stories on Salem (those make me shudder) and Camelot (my personal favorite), I couldn't resist. Angels won't help him, fallen won't help him, mortals are practically useless, nephalims nearly extinct, so what's left? I know, I'm bonkers, but hopefully still redeemable! Also, bear with me, I've never had children, so I only have my mother's tales to go by and Simon, poor Simon, though, in my eyes, this is his way of atoning for all the years he made her think she was crazy. We shall see how that works out. Hope you're enjoying it thus far (even if you're secretly shaking your fists at me, that's okay, I do that to me, too).


	13. Chapter 12 - Prisoners of War

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** I am ever so glad that the previous chapter didn't have you all rioting for my head :-) to XinnLajgin, yes, I agree, when it comes to my writing, I am a special kind of mean but I'm glad you're enjoying it, to a point ^.~ and welcome Xand'r Coldhearted! Wow, you read them all? I found myself having to read them all again, in one night, so I could finish this installment and connect it all in my mind, so I know that's no easy feat, and thank you for the kind words! I think my favorite part about the previous chapter is subtly showing that Lucifer _has_ changed, to a point, but he hasn't realized it yet. It took an outsider, someone that only knows him by reputation to say, he's not at all what he's supposed to be...how true that is!

And you might wonder, how crazier can I get? Oh, this chapter will give evidence to many other crazy things. RATED X again, due to intercourse, consensual this time, thank goodness, and have fun guessing who. I do admit, this one I tweaked, a lot, during the proofreading process (don't you just hate it when she becomes he when it's really meant to be she?)

* * *

**Chapter 12. **Prisoners of War

* * *

_Heaven help me  
For the way I am  
Save me from  
These evil deeds  
Before I get them done_

**"****Criminal****" Fiona Apple  
**

* * *

Allison puts Danielle in her bassinet, with the most beautiful white drape canopy, keeping out the light from the windows.

She's had her fill, for now, and Allison isn't really a gifted singer, but she hums a song in her head, hoping it'll help lull her into a deeper sleep before she leaves to try and find Simon.

"I am glad to see you are well."

Allison turns sharply, seeing the woman behind the voice, and it's no one she recognizes. Her hair is long, cascading in long curls, she's wearing a dark green cloak to match her eyes, her skin fair, and she is taller, not just in height but in presence.

"Do not be frightened, I mean you no harm. My name is Morgan. You may know me better as Morgan le Fey."

Allison blinks, stupefied, because, yes, she knows her myths and legends, "Wait, you're real?" She's whispering and then decides it's better to take the conversation outside the baby's room. She slips out, and Morgan moves away as Allison closes the baby's door, leaving it slightly ajar in case she wakes up.

They're both in her bedroom and Allison can hear other voices in the house - which serves more as a cabin, from the looks of the logs and wooden floor.

"Why wouldn't I be real? Oh," she chuckles, "Yes, I realize your world may have a different view of us than what was lived, but I assure you, I am here by the will of the Gods, to aid you and Simon in any way I can."

She blinks, something Morgan said resonating in her head. "Gods?" Allison's mind is reeling, years of theology smacking her in the face, "You mean God." She's been through enough with angels and demons, she doesn't know if her mind can include mythology and paganism all in one room.

"Allison," Simon walks into the room, smiling sheepishly, "You must forgive Allison, Morgan, she's...a bit overwhelmed."

"I can't say I'd blame her," an old man walks in, and Allison's eyes widen. She observes his long white beard, strange blue eyes, same mystical appearance as Morgan...she knows he's not Santa Claus.

_You've got to be kidding me._

"Let me guess," she swallows, "Merlin?"

The old man laughs, "Why, yes, you flatter me with your deduction, Allison."

"Simon," Allison warns, hands closed in fists. She doesn't know what's going on and, as a mother, a protective one at that, she needs to know what they're dealing with, what their situation is. So far, all she knows is Simon fell, Gabriel helped him move her, and they're in the country, hidden and protected from Lilith's minions. Simon had left out the little detail of added companions.

"To make a long story short, Allison," Simon approaches the topic carefully, "some myths are as true as angels and demons. They change over time, they change depending on the author, and while I know that your knowledge on the Bible is extensive, I should also remind you that it was written by men who only witnessed the dark side of magick, but not all magick is evil, just as not all angels are good. Like many things in the Bible, they are open to interpretation."

"Oh my God," she sits down on the bed, then scoffs half a laugh, "if only the Catholic church was here to hear this. The Pope would not be pleased."

At this, they all smile. Simon sighs in relief, "Well, some truths are harder to swallow than others, but it's nice to see your humor is still intact. The good news is, they're here to help us, they've been released to us to help hide and defend us from anything that might come knocking our way. The bad news, they're not the only ones wandering around."

"What do you mean?"

"Others have been resurrected," Morgan explains, sitting next to Allison, a hand on her leg, comforting her, "Sorcerers, Warlocks, Necromancers," she says the last word with some disdain. "The other side is using them as tools of war."

"The other side?" Allison turns to Simon, "You don't mean Lilith."

Simon shakes his head, "No, Lucifer's allies...they've formed a rebel faction. From what I was able to see, he's entrusted one of his high commanders to gather as many supernatural soldiers as he can to wage war against Lilith."

"That's good, isn't it? If she's gone, then there might be a chance for good to win."

No one says anything, and only Simon has the heart to look her in the eye, "That depends." He crouches down so that he's almost at eye level,though he still has to look up, and he takes Allison's hands into his. "Lucifer is Lilith's property, meaning he'll be fighting on the wrong side. I think he's making them do this so that they actually stand a chance against large numbers. The problem is, even if they fight against him, they won't kill him. They'll try to hold him, at best. He won't be easy to kill and I doubt anyone capable of ripping out the heart of the very person they're fighting for."

Allison's heart starts to speed up - _bump bump bump. _

"So, you're telling me, in order for us to win, someone has to kill him, to beat the side he's standing on?" Allison tries to be okay with it - being okay with it means fighting for a world her daughter could live in, one God could bestow his mercy upon rather than cleanse and destroy, and possibly letting her father die.

"I fear it may not be so simple," Merlin frowns.

"There's more?" Allison looks up at the old man, the frustration clear on her face, before she locks eyes with Simon.

"Lucifer is the only reason Lilith has the upper hand in this battle. While he leads her army, they stand a good chance at winning. Their best chance is bringing Lilith down, but to do that, they'll have to survive the first wave of soldiers, of which, if she has any sense, Lucifer will lead. When, and if, Lucifer falls," Simon chooses his words carefully, "and Lilith's side is weakened...Allison, we have to take advantage of that moment and use your baby."

Allison pulls her hands away from his in an instant, "No."

"Allison, let me finish," he takes her hands back, grips them so hard, she digs her nails into his skin, but he doesn't even flinch. "Your baby is the product of heaven and hell. She is the product of a love so...fervid, it gave an angel back his wings."

There's a sudden silence and Allison lets the last part sink in. "What?"

Simon smiles, his eyes softening, and he raises one hand to cup her cheek. "He doesn't know it yet but... Lucifer** is** an archangel. When he sacrificed himself for you, to save that girl, He gave him back his wings, but it's dormant, waiting for him to make the one choice that will awaken its purpose. It's because of this that your baby is so special, Allison. Lilith has a soothsayer. She knows this baby is special and that she can end this war. That's where they come in." He nods at Merlin and Morgan, "They will use their magick to push every single demon back into whatever hole they came from and after that, it's up to God to decide if this world deserves another chance, or if it will be cleansed, and those worthy of His mercy will return to His embrace. Your child is proof of that."

"No. He'll use her. He'll take her from me. He can't...I won't!"

"Allison," his grip on her hands is tighter, "You can't lose your faith, not now. Remember Abraham. Have faith. Trust Him."

She closes her eyes, pulling down his hand from her cheek, "How can you say this...after all this time of watching over me, of seeing what happens to the faithful, to me, how..."

"Because I have have faith, not just in Him, but in you. I never stopped having faith in you. I have watched over humanity for as long as I can remember and you would be surprised how much you can all survive in the worst kind of circumstances. You just need one person to believe in you, one person to help you through, and I have tried being that one person for you. I may not be of much use to you now, Allison, but I will always have faith in you, no matter what form I take."

She opens her eyes and sees his face, a tear falling down his cheek, and she knows he means it. "She's just a baby. She's our baby."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I know what I'm asking of you...I'm asking you to trust me, not just with your life, but with your child."

Allison knows that, even if she wanted to, she doesn't have a choice; Simon may be human, but the other two? They're, well, magick, which she thinks may be just as worse as angels. If she tries to run, then she risks Lilith finding her, and that fate will be much worse than what_ they_ have in mind.

In the end, it's always about choosing the lesser of two evils.

"Can you promise me that nothing will happen to her? Can you swear to me, on your God, on all of your Gods, that you can keep her safe?" She locks eyes with them, all of them, her stare hard and dangerous.

"I can." Morgan is the first to respond, "I know what it is like losing a child and I would never, ever wish that upon any mother. I will appear with the child, when Merlin calls on me, and then, I will release her light into the field of battle. I will keep her safe, at any cost."

"Thank you," she smiles at the other woman, before locking eyes on Simon again, "Then I have one condition."

"Name it." Simon is already willing; they've asked so much of her, the least he can do try to meet her demands somehow.

"I want to be there."

His eyes widen, "Allison, I-"

"Don't. I will be there. I've been sitting on the bench long enough. I'm not pregnant and I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm a nephalim, and I'm a mother. I can fight. At the very least, I can try, and if you're going to use my daughter as a way to win this war, I have every right to be there."

"She speaks the truth," Merlin agrees, "Morgan can teach her. Simon, better that she is a weapon against our foe than a tool to be used against us. Once the war begins, every being on this earth will be exposed to its madness."

"Fine," Simon mutters under his breath, "Fine. If that's what you want, but I can't protect you. Once we're in that battlefield, it's every man, and woman, for himself."

"I understand," she nods.

"Your training can begin tomorrow, as soon as you are ready," Morgan stands, her hands joined on her lap. "I would recommend rest, for now, you will need it."

Merlin nods, politely, before being the first to leave, and Morgan follows.

Allison looks down at her hands - _their_ hands - before locking eyes with Simon. Can she trust him? Hasn't she always? He moves to sit next to her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder and she feels his lips on her head.

"Sleep, Allison. You'll need your strength. Danielle will need it, too."

It makes her heart twist, but she nods, wiping away a frustrated tear and she watches him leave, returns his warm smile, but once he closes the door, her shoulders fall and she feels so very tired.

Simon. Her guardian angel. He gave up his wings to keep her safe, to save her child, and she's about to risk her safety just so she can see Lucifer. Once in the battlefield, she can see him, she can tell him about Danielle, and they can figure out something together. They can be reunited somehow.

Somehow, she'll save him, and her daughter. If what Simon said is true, and he is an arch, she just has to help keep him alive until they can figure out a way to use it to their advantage.

She just has to bide her time and get ready for what's to come.

* * *

Nimue walks across the halls of their underground hideout, seeing her sisters at work; some of them are sorcerers from the isles, others from another place and time, anything that might aid them in their battle against Lilith.

They're only a rebel faction, their numbers are small, and the presence of magick reassures the demons in some way, that they may have a chance, to call on the powers of nature.

However, sorcerers do not use their powers so carelessly, and they would never harm an innocent, but these fallen are far from innocent...so, in their own way, while they are still being an instrument to the Gods, some of them have fallen into blind, wild lust, for amongst the fallen, one cannot easily remain chaste, and Nimue hopes that their actions are seen as instruments of this war; a necessary evil.

Very similar to the one she is about to commit.

She walks into the room where Azazel is, looming over a table, trying to calculate a strategy; Beelzebub had informed him of Lucifer's last orders. Nimue is meant to be the leader, but of course, Azazel won't allow that so easily, so she's allowed to lead the sorcerers, to contribute and counsel them, but the fallen will not follow her - they will not follow a sorceress who had once turned against their cause.

She hadn't bothered to argue - she can lead through Azazel, even if he doesn't know it quite yet.

"You presence is distracting, Nimue, if you have something to say, please, say it," he's still looking down at the table.

She closes the door behind her.

"I need two things from you, Azazel."

"Just two?" He glances up, sees in her usual closed cloak, looking as pure and dangerous as ever, before he turns his attention back to the table.

"Your book. **The** book." That makes him look, his attention now on her. "We are outnumbered. We may be powerful, but we are mortal, easily destroyed by the hands of your kind. We are nothing more than pawns to strengthen your army and distract the enemy. With your book, I may be able to find a spell strong enough to weaken the enemy so that we may all have an equal chance."

"Or," he walks around the table, his hands touching the edges of it, "You can use a spell to weaken all fallen, making it easier for us to kill each other. Really, Nimue, do you think I'm an idiot?"

She has to play this very carefully, she has to earn his trust; she remembers what Lucifer had said. Azazel loves her. He did not want to bring her back, why? Because she is a weakness, she is someone whom he enjoyed, increasingly so, and then she rejected him and found peace, away from his tutelage.

"You mistake my intentions, Azazel," she sighs, feigning tiredness.

"Do I?" He crosses his arms, leaning his back on the table. "Please, enlighten me, what are your intentions, other than helping us win this war? Why should you want us to prevail when, clearly, we're as damned as the army we'll be fighting?"

"You brought me back," she whispers, trying to find the words. "I have been gone for so long...I have been at peace and, yet, when I saw you, feelings I hadn't felt in centuries, it all came back to me. I felt a fire inside me burn...it burns in me still, Azazel," she's managed to procure tears, and she covers her mouth, trying to force a smile. "When I met Lucifer, he told me...he told me why he's doing this. He wants to rule again, but more importantly, he wants her safe. If he can love, and be loved, then why shouldn't we... I want to live, Azazel. I want us all to live. I want another chance at a different choice."

Azazel's face is stoic and, she can tell by his Adam's apple, he's having trouble swallowing.

After a long silence, he clears his throat. "I will have the book in your hands as soon as I'm done here. There is a spell that may be of use," he mutters, with some hesitance. He sighs, "I wrote it with the intent of using it in our battle against heaven, but it never worked for me, for any of us. Lucifer surmised He had something to do with it. I later discovered it could work against one of us, once I allowed a witch to use it. You could imagine my surprise when I discovered **I** could not use it," he sighs, "I wrote that spell and yet, He enforced it with light magic, to where only a sorcerer, wielder of light, could draw enough energy to defeat that which He bestowed," his smile is bitter, clearly annoyed by the omnipotence of their Father. "But you must understand the risks. If you do this, you will be using light magic, you will be revealing yourself to Lilith and her army. However you mean to use it, it better work the first time, for I can't guarantee a second chance, nor that the barrier of the camp will hold once we leave."

She has it, she's convinced him, but she knows she's not done. If she's going to do this, she has to ensure he doesn't doubt her - doesn't even question her intentions - because once she has the book, she will be doing things that may raise suspicion, something she _cannot_ afford. Like he said, she only has _one_ chance to do this, one try.

"I understand, I can take the proper precautions against them. As for my second request..."

"Oh, right," he responds, suddenly remembering, "if you want the use of my potions and items, you're welcome to them-"

"Thank you," she interrupts, trying to get this out before she changes her mind, "but that's not what I want." She lifts her hand to untie the binds of the cloak, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her naked body to him. She looks down for a moment, feeling ashamed, her cheeks burning. "As I said, Azazel, I want to live. I want this life..."

She feels his hand lifting her chin to return his gaze, and he's in front of her, his breathing somewhat labored. "Another chance at a different choice?"

Her lip trembles, and she knows he'll probably think it due to her inexperience, her purity, her goodness - if only he knew. "Yes."

He cups her face and kisses her; he's surprisingly gentle, pushing her against the closed door. He tastes...sweet, warm, and when she opens his mouth to him, he seizes the opportunity and his tongue seeks hers, massaging it with absolute tenderness.

He breaks the kiss, moving to her shoulders, and she's breathless, shaking, as he kisses her chest, cupping one breast and his mouth finds the other and softly bites her nipple. She moans, her hands in his luscious hair. His lips leave kisses over her stomach until finally, he lifts one leg and rests it over her shoulder as he kisses her folds. She's incoherent now, utterly lost, as he teases her clit, tracing circles with his tongue, sucking on the most intimate parts of her and relishing in the taste of her as she has never before experienced.

She's becoming embarrassingly loud, calling his name, and she can feel the intensity build, her legs beginning to shake but he keeps her in place, his arms strong in their intent. She can't last much longer.

"Azazel!" She screams, shaking and convulsing, breathing so hard, she can't open her eyes. He sweeps her off her feet and she doesn't have the energy to argue, her arms dangling, as she hears objects clattering - he's clearing the table - and sets her down.

She opens her eyes to see him undressing - she had never seen him naked. She had only seen him shirtless once, that had been tempting at the time, but now, in all his glory and perfection, she curses Lucifer, for she knows she's opening a door she had once walked away from with good reason.

He positions himself above her and kisses her again. She welcomes his lips, buries her hand in his hair and with the other, she caresses his shoulder, his back and his buttocks, squeezing them, feeling his length against her already wet folds.

He presses his forehead against hers, their breath mingling, "Is this what you want? Are you sure?"

And that nearly breaks her; Azazel has a reputation, such a reputation, she knows he's not one to ask twice. She kisses him again and bites his lower lip, pulling in on it after she's done. "My only regret," she says, her words not her own, speaking purely on instinct. "My only regret was knowing that I could never be with you because of what you are...things have changed now. I am changed. I want you, Azazel. I want this. I want us."

He's kissing her again, no longer gentle, and she feels him enter her, slowly, and he buries his head on the crook of her neck, kissing, nibbling. She's digging her fingernails into his back, calling his name, moaning with every thrust, as the speed picks up and she can hear the table scraping the floor with their movements.

He's grunting wildly, pounding into her body as if he meant to turn their bodies into one single being.

Her legs are wrapped around him now and she's urging him on with each moan of his name, each touch of her fingers, and she doesn't want it to stop.

She meets another release, one he meets with his own, and he collapses on her as they both catch their breath. She's brushing his hair and part of her knows she has damned herself; perhaps, forgiveness could be sought, but for now...she has a role to play.

"Again," she whispers into his ear and she feels him chuckle.

"I am happy to oblige, my lady," he places a soft kiss on her lips before standing from the table. She sits up but he pushes her back, simply instructing her to roll over. When she does, he pulls her to the edge of the table, until only her torso is lying upon it. He feels him again, his length finding her and filling her again. She grasps the edges of the table and prepares for the worst - for the very best of the worst of indulgences.

He's pounding into her with such urgency, she feels too much, his name leaving her lips as she is claimed over and over again.

She's lost.

* * *

"Hello, Lucifer," Lilith smiles, welcoming Lucifer into _her_ throne room, "I heard you have been wandering about, any particular destination?"

"I've just been visiting familiar places, nothing of interest," he smiles hands in his pocket.

"I'm sure..." She smirks, "I thought you should know, we found where you hid Allison," and at this, she begins to applaud, and Lucifer betrays no emotion. "And I must admit, hiding her in the garden...brilliant. Absolutely wonderful. I never would've guessed. I would've gone in person but you remember my past experience."

"I remember it well," he adds, smiling.

"Indeed." She leans back, her legs crossed, "Unfortunately, as I'm sure you know, we were unable to retrieve her."

He smiles again, playing the fool, "I would've saved you the trouble, had I known. Jophiel isn't an easy angel to befriend. He tried to kill me before I could even say hello."

She laughs, standing, her red dress hugging her curves as she moves towards him - no, she practically _slithers_. "Yes, that is indeed like him, but it wasn't him we fought."

"Oh?" He quirks a brow.

"Simon, and Gabriel, came to her aid."

"Oh, those two," John shrugs, unimpressed, "they've been meddling since before her time, I'm not surprised."

"I know," she says with a look of frustration, but composes herself quickly, smiling, "now the interesting thing is, my little soldier noticed a third and fourth person, but couldn't place them. Something about them was...cloaked."

"Don't look at me, I had nothing to do with it," for once, he's telling the truth, "if I had any say in this, I would've left her in the garden, where not even you can seduce your way in."

She smiles, flattered, "Well, they must have a very good plan in place, she can't sense or see anything about them. It's almost as if they've vanished."

Lucifer pretends to be bored but he does feel a great sense of relief, one he won't voice. He shrugs, "If you can't find them, and Procel can't find them," he says her name, revealing that he knows exactly who Lilith's been getting her information from - the only one that told Lucifer she knew where she was and, considering her gifts of precognition, it's no surprise. "I won't stand a chance."

"Oh, I know, that's not why I brought you here," she stands behind him, resting her face on his back as she wraps her arms around his waist. He lets his arms dangle, indifferent. "See, now that Procel can't see anything, or sense anything, her attention has fallen elsewhere...she's heard whispers of a rebel base of fallen, accompanied by...witches. She's managed to pinpoint their location thanks to these whispers."

John feigns surprise, betraying nothing, "I never thought I'd see the day when hell stands divided and sought the aid of sorcery, although it does bring me some pleasure that it's not during my reign, but yours. I wonder what that says about you, Lilith. Incapable of inspiring loyalty amongst your own?"

He holds back a scream when he feels her power over him, pushing so much pain into him, he should be on his knees, but he does not beg. He will not yield. He closes his hands into fist, feeling the blood trickling down his nose.

Her voice has dropped, dark, and threatening, "Do you have any part in this?"

"Now, Lilith," he avoids the question, accompanying it with a troublesome truth, "What use would I be to them, when my will is not mine to control?"

She walks around him, to stand in front of him, watching as he resists the pain. She releases her hold on him, the pain subsiding. Her lips are curled, smiling, "Then it will be my pleasure to kill them all with your bare hands."

Lucifer glares at her, then collects himself, wiping the blood from his lip. There's still a trace of it still, a smear, and Lilith leans forward, standing on her toes so she can lick it off, smiling.

He wipes what's left of the blood, and her saliva, feigning indifference, "If I may make a suggestion?"

"You may," she turn her head, slightly, her hips swaying as she walks up the steps, back to her throne.

"You could send a messenger, tell them you've discovered their rebel group. Ask them to join you...with the witches by your side, we can overtake heaven easily. I'm surprised you didn't think of it first. If they know you know, they've lost the element of surprise, they can't win." He knows he has a point, and she's see it, even though in his own way, he wants to take away the element of surprise from _Lilith_; he wants to warm them that she knows - they don't have as much time as they thought.

"And who should I send, you?" She scoffs.

"No. The head of one of theirs. As a warning. Slip a note into the mouth, if you'd like to write them a love letter. Really, Lilith, I am not without my decorum."

Her smile widens as she rests her face on her hand, "See what good you can do when you side with your betters? I must say, Lucifer, without your little distraction to motivate you towards stupidity, you're almost yourself again." She opens her leg, flashing him a visual, a clear sign.

Lucifer quirks a brow. "Lilith, what you and I had happened very long ago, before Allison, and I told you then, and I will tell you again...I grew bored of you."

Her eyes gleam, threatening, "I could force you."

"You could," he smiles, "but then what would that say about you? The great seductress, the First Succubus, having to force herself upon the former Prince of Darkness in order to get a decent fuck." He chuckles, and in an instant, he is forced to fall on his knees, and he knows the blood is not just coming from his nose now.

It's coming from everywhere.

_Totally worth it_, he thinks.

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** I know, sorcerers, both our heroes ready to die for each other, each with very different plans, which one will play out? We'll have to wait and see. And Allison's reaction to the sorcerers made me snort because, even though she's seen many crazy things, she was raised in a very traditional sense of Christianity, so it'll take some adjusting...and yes, I know, what the frak, how is Lucifer an archangel? Well, why do you think Jesus saw him off? Not only did he know Lucifer would be instrumental to the end of days, he knew their Father had forgiven him, but pitied him because he could not know it, not then...poor Lou. I abuse him almost as much as I do Allison. Ayayayayay...


	14. Chapter 13 - A Call to Arms

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** This chapter is very special to me, mainly due to conversations that are about to transpire that will make religion look a bit differently than it's usual depiction, particularly within the franchise, so yes, I'm taking a liberty, but I think it's a way to connect the existence of sorcerers and the existence of angels...as well as give a different interpretation to a very old story (think Genesis *hint hint*) I'm not a medium, I'm definitely not an angel, I'm a person like any other with thoughts, opinions and ideas (which tend to change with time, and learning) so these aren't facts, they are, however, important to the story arch and to the characters, therefore, important to me. It could very well be one of my favorites, so enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 13. **A Call to Arms

* * *

_For the pain and the sorrow caused by my mistakes  
Won't repent to a mortal whom is all to blame  
Now I know I won't make it  
There will be a time we'll get back our freedom  
They can't break what's inside_

_I'll face it 'cause it's the heart of everything_

**"****The Heart of Everything****" Within Temptation  
**

* * *

Allison can't sleep - well, Danielle won't sleep, hungry for the second time that night - and, after feeding Danielle and having her fall asleep in her arms, Allison found herself awake, restless.

When she walks out of the bedroom chosen for her, the living room is empty, nothing but the sound of crickets disturbing the night and starlight illuminating through the windows. She steps outside, onto the deck, and leans on one of the posts next to the steps.

She holds the robe close, crossing her arms, and the cold air sends a chill down her spine.

Here, everything is so peaceful, _quiet_, and it doesn't even look like the world had hell open up and devour thousands..._millions_. She knows better - she's lost too much to believe otherwise.

"Can't sleep?"

She turns her head to the sound of Simon's voice before turning her attention back to the view before her.

"Not really," she sighs, and he joins her, standing on the opposite side, leaning on his back, facing her. She turns to look at him again, "So, how are you adjusting to...mortality?"

He shrugs, "It's okay."

"Is there anything you miss," she asks, teasing.

"Do I really need to answer that?"

"Sorry," her eyes widen, realizing how she may have touched a nerve. "I wasn't trying to be rude."

He chuckles, "You weren't. Don't worry, I'm not Gabriel. It's just, well, being in heaven, it's...it's pure bliss, Allison. It's when we look down that we start to worry. I spent a lot of my time as an angel looking down. It seems most of my existence was spent watching over your kind. If I miss anything, it's the ability to protect you. Here? I can't even figure out how to fry an egg."

She can't help but laugh at that, "Well, I guess I understand. I mean, I was in the garden for a while...bliss...it pretty much sums it up."

"Would you go back?" He quirks his brow, curious, but she can tell he's teasing her, probably paying her back for her previous question.

"No," she smiles weakly, holds herself tighter, looking up into the sky, thinking of...Him. "I couldn't, not knowing what I know."

"Then you, Allison, have discovered the real reason why mortals cannot live in the garden," his smile is full of pride, he's practically beaming, and Allison just returns his gaze, but hers is one of confusion. He looks up at the sky, the half moon, before meeting her eyes again. "Do you know why you lost your memories in the garden?" She shakes her head and he continues, "The garden...it's more than just a place, Allison. It's a state of mind, a state of bliss. There is no sin, no fear, no hunger; there is only peace, contentment, fulfillment and love, a love so pure, it cannot think of doing any harm, doesn't even recognize it as a possibility. Your bliss only existed because of your ignorance. Had you, like Eve, eaten from the tree, you would have obliterated that ignorance. And so, the reason Adam and Eve were cast out was because of the loss of that ignorance. He didn't do it to punish them, not really, as I'm sure it hurt Him more than it did them, but because if they had stayed...how long until they tried to kill an animal for food? How long until they start to cut down trees to build houses? How long until they start building a civilization that cultivates from the ground and sells it for profit? How long until they charge for water? Ignorance, Allison, it's the reason why you were able to stay there, but knowing what you know now, being who you are, even if you're not as full of cruelty and avarice as the rest of your kind, you couldn't live there. You shouldn't. Mankind forgets, they're not His only creation."

Allison's entranced - they've never had a chance like this, to talk openly about heaven, with both of them on equal ground and, for once, he's not holding anything back. She swallows, allowing the information to sink in before she replies, "Then why create the tree? If the garden was meant to be a state of mind, of bliss, then why create something with the full intent of undoing that bliss?"

Simon looks down, chuckling, "You're more like me than I thought you'd be." Allison's eyes widen, as this is the first time that he, openly, admits her parentage. "To answer your question, Allison, the tree exists because all creatures have a choice. Even angels have a choice. We can choose to fall, we can choose to remain loyal to our Father and we can choose to father a child," he walks towards her as he speaks, "a child meant to protect a book, to defeat the anti-Christ, to give the world a new hope..."

Allison looks away from him, trying to keep her tears hidden in the dark, "And this child, is she ever meant to be happy, to have what she wants, whom she loves?"

He frowns, pulling her into an embrace, but it's an odd angle because she won't face him, "I don't know anymore...I can't see that far, but I can promise you this, she'll never be alone, and she'll never be without family, without friends, without those trying to keep her safe. We're in this together now, kid, I promise."

She faces him finally, buries her face in his chest, and he soothes her, until she's calmer, cried out. She pulls back, wiping the moisture from her face, "I should probably go to bed. Morgan's intent on kicking my ass tomorrow."

He smirks, "Oh, I'm sure she will, but you've got some skills of your own. You'll be fine."

"Thank you, Simon," she looks down, walking towards the door, and she looks back, catches him looking at her with that same prideful, loving parental look she's seen him give her before. "And for what it's worth, I like you like this. Not mortal, just...here, free to be here, no strings attached."

"Good night, Allison," he whispers as she leaves, and he looks into the sky one last time. He likes it, too, he had wanted to say, but truthfully, the uncertainty and inability of being unable to protect her...to protect her _line_, that would take some getting used to.

* * *

The next day, during "training" or, rather, what Allison likes to call it, "A Session with a Witch on Magical Steroids", Allison falls on her ass, feeling the cold grass under her fingertips, for what could be the eleventh time, while Morgan points the cold steel to her neck, smiling, "You are improving."

Allison scoffs, pressing her palm down to help herself stand before grabbing one of the swords Morgan had somehow conjured for them. "I highly doubt that, but thanks, anyway," she holds the hilt of the sword in a defensive stance, trying to read Morgan's body like the woman had been trying to teach her.

To be honest, she had thought the sorceress would teach her how to fight _fight_; throwing punches, kicking, dodging, what she herself had been practicing for a while, but according to Morgan, if a war amongst fallen was brewing, they'd fight like soldiers of the dark ages, not like monkeys.

She manages to block her first strike, the second, but when Morgan uses the hilt of her own sword to hit Allison's shoulder blade, twirling around like what Allison perceives as a deadly ballerina, Allison drops her sword in response - the woman hit her in the worst possible muscle.

Before Allison can bend over to pick up the sword, the witch pulls her hair back and has the sword at her neck again, "You think too much, Allison, and you are trying not to hurt me."

"Well, we are practicing," she says through gritted teeth, "and these are sharp."

"I am merely preparing you to carry the weight of a real sword. And you shouldn't concern yourself with my well-being, or else, the training will not be very effective... Very well," the sorceress moves back, "pick it up, and attack without mercy, be watchful of your opponent." The earth starts to quake and Allison jumps back when she sees a mountain of mud start to pile up into a figure - a man. No eyes or discernible features; like a bad art project. "Let him lead, wait for the opening, and move quickly. Women are not weak because man is stronger; we are weak only when we do not play at our strengths. We are agile, we can move faster; we are of a smaller frame, making for a smaller target." The mud man grows a sword in his hand, out of mud, at first, but then the mud on his weapon dries, looking more like a club than anything else.

"Show no mercy, Allison, hurt it, because your life depends on it."

And she does. She has to grit her teeth to block the thing's first blow, a heavy one; she has to use both her hands and almost cut herself in the process. She twirls - a move she learned from the sorceress herself, and the mud man is slow on the uptake, taking him a moment to turn to her and when he does, she swings the sword with all her strength, at his neck.

It gets stuck there; she has to pull it out before he's able to react with another blow.

She glances at Morgan, who smiles and shrugs. If Allison didn't know better, she would think the woman's trying to drive her nuts. She blocks a few more attempts at smashing her head, manages to get a few more blows, but her sword doesn't go clean through - kind of hard to do, when your target is _mud _and you're using a sword, not an axe - but with every attempt, she feels the adrenaline, the strength coursing through her veins, and she's learning how to use it - hone it - so it takes her less time as she repeats the process.

She's exhausted, drained even, and she knows her nephalim strength is the only reason she hasn't passed out yet. She manages to combine her own skills - throwing herself on the ground and kicking its legs, making him fall, and then she rolls to her knees and plunges her sword in his heart as far as it can go.

"Very good," Morgan waves her hand and the thing falls apart on the ground, as does the club, and Morgan offers Allison a hand, which she takes.

"I should have started practice that way; forgive me, I did not realize you would pull back your strength in order to protect me." They both walk up the short steps of the deck of the house.

"Well, it's kind of hard to practice with actual swords that can hit a vital organ." Allison catches her breath, completely burnt out, and she feels she needs a shower, immediately.

Morgan laughs, "I understand. I was raised to wield such weapons and to learn the control needed not to carry out the final blow."

"Understood," Allison salutes her, which causes Morgan's brow to furrow, and both women laugh, dismissing the gesture for now.

Allison hears Simon's voice calling her, so she excuses herself, entering the house through the living room, finding the man in the kitchen, "I think the baby's hungry again." She notices books on the table - cookbooks - and smiles.

"Okay, thanks," and she makes her way to her bedroom without another word, noticing the door to the baby open. Merlin's already there, watching over the child, and she doesn't question it, not yet, reaching for the blanket to put over her shoulder before she unbuttons her blouse.

She picks up the fussing baby, her little fists shaking with every cry, and once the baby feels her body heat, feels the familiar shape and softness of the bosom she's being directed to, she takes the nipple into her mouth and quiets down.

"She is quite special," Merlin comments, hands behind his back, smiling.

"Yes, she is," Allison agrees, sitting on a nearby rocking chair, ignoring her aches and pains, but wincing slightly when her back touches the back of the armchair - bruises lingering.

"Allow me," Merlin waves his hands, knowingly, and Allison feels the pain decreasing.

She clears her throat, "Thank you."

He chuckles, "I realize my abilities startle you, forgive me, I should have asked."

"No, it's fine, I'm grateful. It'll make it easier to sleep, I think. If I even get to sleep," she smiles down at Danielle, realizing her little bundle of joy requires a lot of attention. She notices Merlin still in the room. "Can...can I ask you a question?"

"You may," he conjures a chair of his own and sits, waiting.

"You and Morgan...you believe in gods, and yet, God brought you here. I mean, doesn't that sound weird to you?"

He chuckles again, "I understand your confusion, Allison, and perhaps, this is a mistake we all make, but it is only that, a mistake, a presumption, not a crime. We are not meant to know everything, let alone understand it, and thank the Gods for it." He smiles again, "It is not what we believe, Allison, or why we believe, but how. It is what our beliefs make of us, as people, as instruments of good, not evil, for evil doesn't have to believe in a God of any kind in order to exist."

"So, you're saying, all beliefs are accepted...all of them?" Her mind recalls a story in the Bible, one that meant to scare so many children into believing a very important lesson: the worship of false idols will condemn you. "We were taught to believe God is a jealous God, to adore any other idol or god is to condemn your soul."

Merlin joins his hands, interlocking his fingers, and leans back, "Jealousy is a human trait, not a godly one. In my lifetime, I worshiped the God and the Goddess. I worshiped the earth, the sky, the water and the air that sustained me. I communed with it, I drew my strength from it, and the things I did, I did for the good of the realm. I knew of no sin, no commandment, but one; harm none. We worship life above all else. I am familiar with some of your Christian traditions and most stem from Pagan traditions. Tell me, do you believe it is because they had no traditions of their own or because our traditions were once their own? They simply molded it to fit their views and, while some of their views are indeed quite hateful and harmful, others are not, speaking of love, protection and peace. I have died and knew no purgatory. I was at peace. I was accepted into the realm of our Gods because our Gods are what we believe them to be, and we are what our belief shape us to be. It matters not what we believe, but the person it turns us into. I have been reading your bible, I read of your garden and the first pair of mortals, and I ask you, if your god, my Gods, is so capable of creating such a beautiful home, such love, such devotion, do you think they were cast out because of a betrayal? No. They were taught a lesson. You may live in blissful innocence, or you may acquire knowledge, purity lost, and with that knowledge comes responsibilities. Although, that is simply my interpretation of it."

Allison swallows, not speaking for a while, digesting his words. Obviously, he and Simon have been talking. "Well, I'll say this much. You would've made a really good theology professor, or a really bad one."

He laughs, not taking the insult, which she appreciates, "It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it."

She quirks a brow, recognizing the quote, "Aristotle? You knew him, too? In heaven?"

He chuckles, "No, I'm afraid not. Simon keeps many books in this home. I simply seek to educate myself while I am here, until I am needed."

She nods, figuring there'd be worse things to do with their time; she'd probably spend most of her time training with Morgan, sleeping an hour or two, feeding the baby, changing her, getting her to sleep, watching over her, and if Simon isn't in the kitchen, he's with Merlin, sneaking around from town to town gathering the necessary supplies.

Allison feels Merlin's eyes on her, but they're not scary; he's actually pretty approachable.

"You know," she smiles, remembering a friend she once had in school, back when...back when she didn't even know about angels and demons, not the way she knows them now. "I once knew someone who used to say God is the roots of all the trees. The trunk of the tree is the foundation that our faith, our belief, stems from, connected to God, leading us to him like a bridge. But we, we were the leaves, and the branches were what we chose to believe: Christian, Protestant, Lutheran, Pagan, whatever belief was followed. The day we stopped believing, we would fall from the branch, but the belief still remained, because the belief shapes us, not the other way around. As long as we believed in Him, in something, we were part of Him, of a higher power. I never really thought much about it, considering I was brought up to believe a different doctrine."

"Your friend sounds wise," he acknowledges, "I would've enjoyed meeting such person."

"Probably not," she wrinkles her nose at the memory, "he became an atheist afterwards."

Merlin raises a brow in confusion.

"He lost faith, all faith."

"Ah, well, some look too closely and begin to doubt but, as even he said, his lack of belief does not take him away from God; after a leaf falls, it decomposes, returns to the earth from whence it came."

"You're a surprising optimist," she smiles, looking down on Danielle who has stopped her suckling, her lips still puckered, and Allison lifts her, resting her head on her shoulder as she gently pats her back. "I hope I can be the same, when all is said and done. So much has happened, I don't know who to blame anymore, or who to believe."

Merlin sighs, standing, and the chair disappears as soon as he stands. "In the end, we must have faith, and restore order to the realms."

Allison forces a smile, but she doesn't mean it, not really...not when her faith depends on her daughter being used, a lot like she's been used, and the possibility of her lover dying...there are very few desirable outcomes, and she doesn't know where to start.

She just doesn't.

* * *

Nimue is studying Azazel's spellbook, re-reading passages for the sake of interpretation, to adapt them to her needs. It's surprising how many spells he's concocted and, yes, some do stem from light magic, and while he has attempted to twist them to fit his evil deeds, she can easily twist them back, it's just a matter of perspective and understanding the materials therein.

After lying with Azazel, she had felt only a fragment of guilt; she had enjoyed their time together and part of her feels that her words...she meant them, even if part of her had fought against that choice, choosing not to lie with an instrument of evil, now that she has...she feels part guilt, part bliss.

But she can't afford the distraction right now. She has found several spells that she could use to rip someone of their immortality, but only one strong enough to work on a fallen, the one Azazel had pointed out, which had been originally written to destroy an arch. Everyone knows angels can be killed, they can be hurt, but they can recover from most wounds - some would be strong enough to fight through them. If you wanted to kill one in one single move, you'd have to aim for the heart and rip it out.

Magick can barely harm them and, more often than not, whatever magick you direct to them, some of the greater demons can reflect. It meant that most of her sisters would be used to cloak, to give the rebels an advantage with protection charms, to give them some a better chance at facing the many that Lilith commands.

And facing Lucifer...that would not be an easy feat. She remembers Azazel's words. His attempt to use it against an angel didn't work, and he had found no witch willing to use it on an arch. She's not sure if it'll work because _she_ can wield light magic just as much as dark, but she can think of one or two ingredients she can use to enhance its probabilities - most of which may get her _killed_.

But she has to try; in order to balance the playing field, she has to kill him.

Azazel had made the suggestion for her to use it against Lilith - comical, considering she had made the suggestion to Lucifer himself - and the reminder made it tempting for her to accept it then and there. Lilith is not a fallen arch, she had been human once, later cursed to become a demon, a succubus, and her immortality easily pierced, less likely to be Nimue's own demise. It would break the bond, Lucifer could join their side and fight for them. He could subdue them, force them to stand down, but that would mean taking the role he had so dismissed...and when the Gods descend, they would not be kind to him, or his soldiers. Lucifer is against that choice, she knows, he had specifically asked her not to do it, but Azazel would never agree to it - not that she'd tell him.

Why should she care? She's fighting this battle for the child, for the remaining survivors of this demonic plague, but...something about Lucifer's eyes when he asked this of her...he'd been right. She does not know him, had never met him, thankfully, but of all the evils she's known, Lucifer does not fit the description she had ever imagined evil to be. Perhaps he had changed, truly changed...and can she really condemn such a thing?

After much thought, she knows it would take too much of her strength to weaken Lilith's entire army. She can't ask for help - her sisters need their energy focused to strengthen their purpose - and even if she did, no one would choose to be witness to this. She has to do this alone.

She has two choices: one, do as Lucifer commanded, weaken him, rip the very fabric of immortality that keeps him from being vulnerable to her enchantments and then rip his life force from him or target Lilith instead, have him bring order to the very pits of hell, and then prepare war against heaven itself. Then again, with Lucifer's demise, even Lilith's own would become lost and, a detail she didn't think wise to share with Lucifer, she could manipulate his life force, instead of destroying it, to keep herself from dying, to strengthen herself and perhaps stand long enough to affect the outcome of the war.

Most sorcerers could rip someone's life with a spell, the darkest of magick, but she could either return it to the earth, or empower herself with it.

She'd have to sacrifice a creature; this couldn't just be light magic anymore. It would have to be dark. The thought alone makes her smile, but it's bittersweet, humor she would not be able to share with anyone but herself. Lucifer is so much more than a fallen, he's a former arch - she thinks, in some way, he still is, the energy she had sensed from him, seen in his eyes, no longer dark or damned, but tormented. He's not the devil anymore. In order to do this, she'll have to make this dark magic, with just a hint of light, to unite it with the life force retrieval. He is a creature of both worlds and, in turn, the spell must be from both.

With his life force, she could very well weaken them all, perhaps even kill them all.

She could rid the world of the pestilence that has woven its way through the surface of earth.

The humans would survive...but not the demons...not Azazel. She could target them all, or target a few, but why spare them...spare him? They're all made of the same cloth.

"Did you find the spell?"

His voice startles her, but when she turns to the doorway, she smiles, meeting his adoring eyes with her own. His smile, it reminds her of a time when she didn't know who he was - what he _is_ \- and she had flirted with danger until she learned the truth.

"I have, actually," she turns the page to the one spell that will serve its purpose. "I am afraid I do not have the power to weaken the entire army with it, however, I have a better plan in mind."

"Oh?" He uncrosses his arms, walking towards her and standing next to her to see what she sees. His face is unreadable at first, a slight sign of concern, when he meets her eyes, "And what will it be?"

She swallows, voicing the choice he had suggested, but she had decided against - she will do as Lucifer wishes, but she can't tell Azazel. She can never tell him. "Lilith." She swallows, looking at the page, "If I do this ritual, I can rip her off what makes her invulnerable to magick. But I don't have to stop there. There is another spell, one that manipulates the life force of others. I can drain hers as I am taking her immortality and, with that, I should be able to take care of the rest of her army before killing her. We could win this war."

When she looks at him, his face is still solemn, she thinks he's discovered her - that he knows she's lying - but then he kisses her, painfully, teeth clashing, it's hard to catch up.

When they separate, he's smiling, "You, my love, are truly amazing. That will do beautifully. You'll need something to sacrifice for the life force spell, won't you? It just so happens I have quite the collection of reptiles." He kisses her cheek, "It will do."

Nimue forces a smile, but she can't, not quite.

Azazel notices, "Forgive me, love," he kisses her temple, "I forget, this is all so new to you. I promise you, even as you dabble in darkness, your hands," he picks up one of her hands, kissing her open palm, "they will always remain pure and I do not expect you to make a habit of this," he grins, "unless you want to."

Her eyelids drop, feeling his breath on her skin...he's still quite the sorcerer himself, and she's about to fall into the abyss again, when someone's coughing stops him. She directs her attention to the book, ignoring the look of annoyance on Azazel's face, given the interruption, "What?"

Beelzebub's smile almost touches his ears, "Sorry to put out the fire between you kids, but we have a problem."

That makes Nimue turn, "Is something wrong?"

Beelzebub looks at Azazel before speaking - they don't usually share in information in front of Nimue, but one nod from Azazel is all he needs. "Well, I got head. Sorry," he snickers, "a head delivery. One of our scouts lost their head, literally," he snickers again.

Nimue's eyebrows furrow, unsure of what part of this is laughable, or important.

"Any idea who might be responsible?" Azazel is quick to ignore his friend's attempt at amusement.

"Oh, yeah, that's kind of the problem. **Herr** Lilith has discovered our base, and has given us until sunrise to surrender and rejoin her ranks, or she uses us as target practice before the real fight. Paraphrased. She wrote too much for my taste."

"She always did have a flair for the dramatic," Azazel sighs, unconcerned, "and remind me to get you a German dictionary. Herr is used for men, friend."

"I know. I don't care, **freund.** So, what's the plan?"

Azazel smiles, looking at Nimue, who raises her chin. She has what she needs. They're ready. "The plan is what it has always been," she smiles, "we fight."

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** As I said, Merlin's conversation with Allison is very dear to me, as in, very close to my heart and how my belief and actions are carried. I know this is just a fanfic, nothing original, a humble, minute creation inspired by characters that are not my own, but that conversation, that...is a huge piece of me, so I hope it doesn't offend, or catch anyone off-guard. Again, idealist, guilty as charged. The next chapter will be the last, and after that, the Epilogue. Phew, almost there!


	15. Chapter 14 - Battle Cry

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** Okay. You've made it this far. I thank all of you, humbly, for your kindness, your support and for your shared affection for these characters. I remember watching the 4th installment of the Prophecy and thinking, "Wow, she has balls," and I do love a woman with the guts to walk through a shit-storm, chin high, just because it's what's right, defying all logic, and then John, Lucifer, being so mischievous, so direct, so honest and it made me feel he had a story of his own, and in time, with the right nudge, could develop feelings of his own...to think, I've come from then, to here...yowza. Thank you for traveling this journey with me, really.

* * *

**Chapter 14. **Battle Cry

* * *

__Feet don't fail me now  
Take me to the finish line  
Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take  
But I'm hoping at the gates,  
They'll tell me that you're mine__

**"****Born to Die****" Lana del Rey  
**

* * *

The next morning, thanks to Merlin's magick, she feels rested, no aching bone in her body, and she's practicing with three mud soldiers now, getting a few blows, but nothing that's considered a mortal wound.

She's getting better.

When training is over, and night sneaks in, she heads to her bedroom, checking in on Danielle even though she had checked in on her half an hour ago.

Morgan had offered to share her bed, for the fifth time that week, to make her feel safer, but Allison had said no - it'd be too weird, even for them. Apparently, in the Middle Ages, women had no issues being close to women - there was no sense of shame, or fear for lesbian tendencies. They considered it to be normal, familiar, even.

With everything she's been through, she doesn't feel comfortable with the idea of sleeping with a woman, no matter how innocent.

"Hello, Allison," the voice that greets her in the darkness is one she recognizes, one that makes her kick the sheets off the bed and look for the nearest sharp object, but finds none. She just stays in bed, sitting up, in a defensive stance.

"Jophiel. I'd say it's a nice surprise, but you know I'd be lying. Who's guarding the garden?"

The angel is barely visible, the moonlight illuminating the room just enough for her to see his painfully beautiful features. "It doesn't receive many visitors, it will remain undisturbed in my absence."

"Are you here to take us back?"

He scoffs, "Absolutely not. I half-hoped those demons would find the way through my barrier, but His orders were different."

_His_. Allison had been so preoccupied thinking of Lucifer's intentions, Lilith's intentions, Simon's intentions, she didn't think of His intentions.

"I come bearing gifts." He waves a hand in the air and Allison feels something heavy fall on the bed, under her hand. She feels it...it's small, like a metal rod, almost. "It will serve you well. It only responds to angels, or nephalims. The one who wielded it before you was named Danyael. He had also been a nephalim."

"It's a metal stick," she tries not to sound rude, but the more she feels the weapon, the less of a weapon it seems. Fine, she can feel the symbols on the tilt of it, she can feel something inside, like another metal rod within, but she doesn't see the weapon part of it yet.

He sighs, "Grip it, harder, over the symbol shaped like a star."

She tries to feel for it in the dark, and when she does, she yelps, as it extends in her arm, like a spear.

"Again, but twist it" he instructs.

She has to use both hands for that move and, when she does, she jumps, as something releases in the tip of the weapon, a three-pronged hook. "Oh my God."

"I don't understand why He bothers with your kind," he sighs, "staking his name in vain with such ease."

"Careful, Jophiel," she mutters, observing the weapon, and guessing it's main function - straight to the heart, activate, then pull the heart out. Much easier than a sword - lighter, too. "You're starting to sound like Gabriel, and that's just one step away from Lucifer."

To her surprise, Jophiel smiles, "Well, at least we know Lucifer chose well. Use the weapon, Allison, it will aid you in the coming battle far better than any other piece of steel."

"Is this part of His plan, too?"

Even in the darkness, she knows he's smiling, "Isn't everything? Oh, and Allison, I also have a message for Simon. Ask him if he remembers where the last battle was waged, Pyriel's fall...that is where you need to go. The battle begins at sunrise." He turns, disappearing without another word.

"Wha-what, no, wait!" Allison stumbles out of bed, weapon still at hand, heading to the door he just walked through and she opens it, expecting to see his retreating form, only to be greeted by a concerned Merlin and Morgan, but she looks past them, searching for someone else. Simon walks out of his room, woken by Allison's sudden panic, but she ignores his questions, she can't answer them right now.

She rushes to the baby's room, seeing her sleep, she swallows the lump in her throat.

_It's too soon_. She had hoped she'd have more time with the baby, more time to enjoy...this. This illusion of safety, but it was not meant to be. It was not _His_ will.

She'd have to fight...for more time, for a chance at living, for _them_.

* * *

She didn't go back to sleep that night - who could? - and simply held Danielle, in the rocking chair, asking to be left alone while they organized their plans.

She already knew the plan; she and Merlin were going to go, Morgan would watch over the baby with Simon, until the time came for her baby to fulfill her purpose.

Danielle woke up for a short time, smiling and pulling Allison's lip with her little hand, ignorant to the sadness growing inside of Allison as time drew close, but she wants to treasure this moment, while it's still hers.

When the door opens, its Merlin, his are eyes kind, apologetic even, and she nods, needing no words. She leaves the baby's room, Danielle still in her arms, and sees Morgan, waiting, her smile giving her a bittersweet comfort in it all.

Morgan holds her hands out for the baby and Allison hesitates for a moment, places a kiss on Danielle's forehead and whispers a prayer before handing her over.

"Please," she pleads, keeping her lip from quivering as she speaks, "keep her safe."

"I promise, Allison, I will protect her with my life," Morgan assures her and Allison looks into her eyes; they're honest, genuinely so, and yet the fear does not dissipate.

Allison reaches for the weapon, grips it in her hand, and when she goes to the living room, Simon has his hands in his pockets.

He sighs, "If I knew falling would mean being of no use to you, I might have avoided being hasty in my attempt to rescue you."

Allison smiles and pulls him into a hug. She whispers, "You did your best to protect me, in your own way, and even if I spent most of my life losing my mind over things I barely understood, you gave me something I never thought I'd find...you gave me a family. You're part of it, too. You all are."

He holds her tightly, chuckling, "Don't let Gabriel hear you say that."

She smiles, too, and detaches herself from him, placing her free hand on his cheek, "You stay here. Keep Danielle safe."

He nods and she turns to the door, Merlin already waiting for her outside. It's still dark, but it's morning, and they plan to head over to the base where Lucifer's friends are before the sun rises. Simon knew where it was and had already told the location to Merlin, who could travel there through his magick. Morgan had detected a cloaking spell, no doubt they had magick of their own in use. Merlin had tried to send a message through, but it didn't work. They'd have to transport outside the area and walk the rest of the way.

Merlin holds his hand out to her and she grasps it, her heart pounding in her ears, and she takes a deep breath, turning her head to meet his eyes. "Ready."

He nods and, in the blink of an eye, she feels the earth beneath her disappear and falls on her feet on dry land, almost desert-like, but she's too busy gasping to take in the sights. She's doubled over, trying not to throw up. While she appreciated the thought of instant travel - given the urgency of the situation - she doesn't feel like doing that again. Ever. It felt like she had been turned inside out and put back together again.

"Allison," when Merlin says her name, she thinks it's just a hint of concern, but when she looks up, she sees them; their eyes black, wearing their usual attire, dark coats, shirt and pants, nothing ethereal or demonic about them, except the eyes.

It's always in the eyes.

One of them looks at her, sniffing the air, "You're Lucifer's."

She's not sure what to answer to that. Yes, she is, but is he?

She grips the weapon, ready to use it, if need be. She knows Merlin's here to be her "guard". He had spent the night chanting and weaving spells to strengthen and protect her. She hopes he put some on himself, just in case.

"Yes," she answers, "and I'm here to talk to whomever is in charge." She looks through her memories, trying to remember the names of those who were with him when Lucifer found her in the church. "Beelzebub? Azazel?"

"And him?" The fallen asks, ignoring her request.

"He's with me. He's here to aid me in the fight...against Lilith." Well, she might've just doomed them, or granted herself an audience. She'd have to wait and see.

"Come with me." And the line of fallen part, allowing her passage, and now that she has a chance to look, the sky is still dark, but there's a storm brewing; a thunderstorm. She can see the shapes of angels flying in the clouds - they're watching - and behind her, a line of fallen keeping watch, soldiers preparing for the inevitable.

She doesn't feel like a soldier, she's not exactly dressed as one; she just has a pair of sneakers, a comfortable pair of pants, a tank top and a jacket.

But she does have a weapon, and that's all she really needs, one she intends on using.

* * *

"You have to be kidding me," Beelzebub is the first to head out, Azazel not far behind him, and Nimue following Azazel.

The news of Allison's presence traveled fast and it meant two things: one, Lucifer is going to be pissed and two, she has to be the craziest, dumbest and most stubborn nephalim to ever grace the planet.

When they get a visual confirmation, both fallen are officially not amused, "Ah, shit," Beelzebub mutters, because not only is it true, but Nimue has to stand in front of Azazel to keep him from murdering Allison's companion.

Beelzebub hadn't wanted Nimue to be conjured, not because of her history with Azazel, but because the sorcerers involvement in the somewhat inaccurate legend of King Arthur were, _are_, really...complicated. Beelzebub preferred simple; the Salem witches, for example, their souls were already damned, easy to control, but Lucifer had made a point to keep those out of their rebel faction - those who are already damned, are as loyal as they are fickle. Still, Beelzebub would've happily bought their loyalty...but that hadn't been a risk Lucifer wanted to take.

"Azazel, don't," Nimue pleads, knowing well that Merlin is one of the reasons she had been able to walk away from him, easily. "Please, now is not the time."

"Nimue," Merlin smiles as they approach the group, "It's good to see you well."

Nimue stands in front of Azazel, allowing his arm to wrap itself around her, possessively. She returns the smile, albeit uncomfortably, "It's good to be seen, Merlin, and good to see you in good health."

"Yeah, yeah, moving past the pleasantries, what the fuck do you think you're doing here, Allison? And why aren't you pregnant?" Beelzebub breaks the ice first, in a way only he could.

"Nicely put, brother," Azazel smiles a deadly smile, "Allison, you shouldn't be here."

"This is as much my battle as it is Lucifer's," in her hand, is a weapon, one both fallen angels recognize as they exchange glances. "And Merlin is my guardian in this battle. He'll keep me out of harms way, hopefully," she glances at the wizard, a hint of concern in her voice. "And I'm not with child anymore. I delivered the baby a few days ago...she's doing well, and she's safe."

"Congratulations!" Beelzebub smiles, slapping her arm and making her wince, before adorning a more serious countenance, "But we still can't let you fight."

"We could very well imprison you. You are outnumbered," Azazel smiles at Merlin, "so it would not be difficult."

Allison's eyes narrow. She didn't come all this way for nothing. "You and I both know if I'm here, it's because I'm supposed to be here. You can imprison me, but I'll get out, one way or another, and then I'll join the battle, and without Merlin to protect me, I'll be more likely to get hurt or die. So, either you let me join you with my plan intact, or I'll join you without one and possibly die quicker. Which do you think Lucifer will like best?" She has her hand on her hip, challenging them both.

"She has a point, my love," Nimue vouches for her, her hand on Azazel's arm. "If we support her in her choice, we have a better chance at protecting her from possible recklessness. She's made it this far. Lucifer will understand...when a woman has made up her mind, very little can persuade her otherwise."

"Very well," Azazel concedes, and Beelzebub says something in a language Allison doesn't understand, but since it makes Merlin chuckle, she guesses it can't have been too bad.

"Fine," Beelzebub points a finger at Allison, "you don't leave my sight. You want to fight in the big leagues? By all means, but if you die, it's our heads, and I happen to like my head."

"Come," Nimue extends her hand to Allison, walking away from Azazel's hold and ignoring Beelzebub's attempt at a threat. "I can dress you accordingly. It is better that you do not stand out, perhaps a cloaking spell for your scent," she eyes Merlin, giving him the suggestion, which he had already considered himself "It will make you less of a target to them. Come. I am Nimue."

"Oh! You're the Lady of the Lake!"

Nimue chuckles, "I see my reputation precedes me. Come, we haven't much time." Allison takes her hand, looking back at Merlin, and Nimue stops next to Azazel, forcing him to meet her eyes, "Azazel, leave the past where it belongs, and mind your manners. Merlin is a friend and her protector. Please."

"For you," he takes her hand and kisses the back of it, smirking, "Anything."

As both women depart, Allison hears one last comment from Beelzebub, "Everyone's pussy whipped but me. Figures." It makes her smile.

* * *

It's sunrise.

Lucifer's eyes are black, as is the rest of Lilith's army, which he is leading, just as their deal commanded. He hadn't even tried to fight, to cause a stir by whispering in their ears - he doesn't have to. They know who he was, who he still is, and, when he falls, he wants them to realize exactly who they're following...everything _he_ was, and everything _she_ isn't.

He can see Azazel's army gathering in the distance; he can see their banner, _his_ banner, and it makes his lips curl into a smile.

It's a war like he's never seen, a side fighting for him, a side he's fighting against, and he knows regardless of how many souls he sends to hell, they'll still follow him, because once Lilith falls - and she _will_ fall - he will reward them.

He sees Azazel and Beelzebub standing in front, like good little soldiers, and he wonders where the witches are hiding and if Nimue found the spell she needed for his request.

He'd have to wait and see.

Lilith appears next to him, smiling, wearing a red coat, standing out from the crowd - he had meant to tell her that probably wouldn't serve her well since they'll be targeting her the most, but then he learned she had no intention of fighting with the first wave.

_Big mistake_, he had thought, knowing very few Kings in history earned the respect of their people by making their people fight while they stood behind.

Never ask of your people that which you would not do yourself.

"Should we proceed with the courtesies of battle?"

"I don't see why not," Lucifer shrugs, "It might prove amusing."

She smiles, taking the first step forward, and he notices Azazel taking the first step - so, he took leadership, not surprising. Beelzebub follows him, as Lucifer follows Lilith.

They meet halfway, the four of them smiling.

"You know, once upon a time, we used to hang out...pillage a few villages...start a few orgies...what happened to those times, Lilith? Did we bore you?" Beelzebub crosses his arms.

"Not at all, dear, you were always one of the tasty few I enjoyed, but you're fighting to protect something I want...tell you what, help me find Allison and her little offspring, and I'll forget the whole thing. We can all go home and fuck until we drop," she smiles, her eyes twinkling.

"Sorry, but I'd rather see you stepping on my testicles with your stiletto heels than risk pissing **him** off." Beelzebub points at Lucifer, who smiles in response.

"Tell you what, Lilith," Azazel smiles, ignoring Lilith's glare - their loyalty to Lucifer one she couldn't compete against. "If you let Lucifer go, we can go back to our old days, strip poker on Thursdays, orgies on Sundays...we'll just look at all this like your mid-life crisis, everyone has one."

"Do you think me a fool? Lucifer is my weapon in this war, and if I have to rip you all to shreds before I get that baby, then I'll take pleasure in the fact that your loyalty to him is what will guarantee your demise. Beelzebub, Azazel, it's been a pleasure, I'll enjoy you both in hell."

"We'll see about that," Azazel winks, and offers his hand to Lilith, "lets shake hands, shall we?"

They shake hands - the thunderstorm getting stronger with thunder striking in the distance - and when it's Azazel's turn to grasp Lucifer's hand, Azazel's proves exactly why he's a sorcerer in his own right.

Lucifer gets his message, one that he hears in his mind, but it's too brief - has to be, or else Lilith would've noticed something amiss: _Allison is amongst us._

Lucifer feels rage growing in his stomach - _what is she thinking_?

As they walk away, Lilith mistakes it as anger towards her, what she's making him do, but it's more than that.

Now his plan has one fatal flaw - he has to find Allison, before Nimue kills him.

* * *

Nimue has the ritual ready, spilling the blood of the snake, and she knows the battle is about to start.

She won't start the spell yet, but she's starting a chant, one that will draw the earth's energy to her - enough energy to complete what she must do.

A few minutes into battle, and she'll strip him off his immortality - she'll kill him, and with his life force...with his life force, she'll do what she must.

She has no other choice.

* * *

When the battle starts, Allison has no time to think - to hesitate, to calculate or consider - there's only running forward, letting her boots hit the ground, feeling the adrenaline, the supernatural surge of strength; it drives her forward, and once bodies from the opposing sides begin to clash, she touches the symbol and uses her spear to deflect a blow.

She has no time to look for Lucifer, to look anywhere else but to her opponent, and as she blocks another of his moves, she moves aside, spinning it in her hand so that she can hit him in the back, causing him to move forward, and then she turns again, standing behind him so that she can thrust the weapon in his chest; twist and push, then pull.

She notices Beelzebub not to far from her - keeping his word - but he's fighting battles of his own, fighting his way closer to her.

The beating heart falls to the floor with a shake of the spear, but she has no time to watch it hit the ground, as she turns again, then ducks, avoiding the blow of another sword. She uses the spear to strike the fallen's face, uses the momentum and brings the spear to its previous form so she can spin it, and push it into his chest, twist and push again, and pull.

She doesn't know how - is it the spear? Is it Merlin? But she fights on, kill after kill, and she's roaring now, yelling with every kill, and although it's hard to tell who's on her side and who isn't, she figures anyone who isn't trying to kill her is a friendly. It's the only distinction she needs to know, for now.

As she makes her way through the battlefield, she's turning, striking, blocking, _killing_, and Lucifer doesn't even enter her mind until she turns and he catches her spear in his hand, their eyes locked.

Time stops for her, her momentum lost, and she smiles - she _has_ to - and she doesn't think when she lets go of the weapon and embraces him, catching her breath, and he holds her, the only idiots not fighting.

"You're a fool."

"You're alive."

They both speak simultaneously, and she laughs as she pulls away. Her eyes catch something behind him, a fallen charging at them. She doesn't have time to question whether he's aiming at him, or at her, and she takes her weapon back, pulling him away - Merlin's spells are clearly not myth - as she holds the spear in front of her, letting the fallen charge right into it before she triggers the hooks and pulls his heart right out.

She turns to see Lucifer fighting behind him, fighting one of hers, and as they fight side by side, Allison can't help her smile, her momentum regained. She's never been one for blood and gore, but this, finding him again, fighting besides him, it feels _right_.

The storm above them rages on, thunder, lightning, rivaling the sound of battle, and they fight for their survival, while she occasionally kills those who try to kill him - those on her side of things, she realizes later, but she feels no guilt, recalling Azazel's words. Some fallen would attack Lucifer, but they would not aim to kill, as they would merely be sacrifices to entertain Lucifer, and to play to Lilith's need for theatrics.

Nimue had a plan, one that would give Lucifer his title back, and one that would kill Lilith; it hadn't been the best news she had heard, but it would do...for now.

Allison turns to see someone in battle - someone she recognizes - Mephistopheles, and if his eyes are any indication, he is charging for her.

She manages to block his attack but his strength is monstrous. When he strikes her again - a hammer, he's wielding an actual, monstrous hammer, almost twice her size - she falls, but continues to block it, using her legs to push against his torso and throw him back.

He falls on a few fallen and Allison looks around, hoping one of them wasn't Lucifer. She finds Lucifer, and he's looking at her - he's pissed - and part of her knows, as part of his deal, he can't save her. He can't fight against one of Lilith's and there are too many of them now - Beelzebub is nowhere to be found.

She's on her own.

She jumps into a standing position, the spear ready, and Mephistopheles recovers, ready to charge, Lucifer stands between them.

"NO!" She screams.

She had been right about one thing; he couldn't fight them, but he could stand between them - he could sacrifice himself, for her.

_Not again._

One moment, Allison has her hand on his shoulder, about to pull him away like she did before, but then a blazing wind pushes her back - it pushes _everyone_ back - and when she recovers, wiping the dust from her face, she sees everyone that had been fighting around them lying on the floor with her.

When she sits up, she sees...wings.

The most beautiful pair of wings are extending, the feathers too large to be from any bird she knows, because it's not a bird, but Lucifer's back, glowing with a golden aura. It's a vision she never thought she'd see, in spite of what Simon said, she didn't think she'd live long enough to see it, but it's him. It's Lucifer, the archangel. She knows the back of his head, an image that tormented many of her dreams, and his wings...they're white, majestic and glorious.

A scream fills the air, and it's his, his arms extended; in a split second, he catches on fire, but it's not like any fire she's ever seen; it's black, it burns through his clothes and she can feel the heat emanating from him on her skin, like the heat from an open oven.

He continues to scream while a light shoots from his body and begins to target fallen around him. She crawls away in a hurry when she sees the fallen next to her catch on fire, and then another, and another. Most of the fallen on her side of things remain intact, but those fighting for Lilith...they all catch on fire.

Allison forces herself to crawl towards him, avoiding the beams above her - towards the burning archangel - and when she's finally in front of him, she moves to stand, noticing Mephistopheles' hammer on the floor, but no Mephistopheles.

She shields her eyes, it's difficult to try and see him, but there's no denying it, she knows it's him, and his screams are anguished, pained.

She tries to take a step toward him, but someone pulls her back. She looks at her captor in alarm - it's Merlin. She tries to break free, but it's not until the fire disappears, until his screams stop, that Merlin lets her go.

She rushes to his side, falling on her knees just in time to catch his falling body. The feathers fall off his wings, charred, leaving nothing but a decayed skeletal winged form, and his body looks gray, lifeless. She's crying for him, shaking him, looking around her as if an explanation would appear before her eyes.

Beelzebub, Azazel, Merlin and Lilith. They're all there. Azazel looks lost, confused, and Beelzebub doesn't waste time in the confusion; he has his arm against Lilith's neck, another hand over her chest, ready to pull out her heart.

A light emerges above them, parting the clouds, and Allison shields her eyes, looking at the distance, at the form walking towards them - Morgan - and she hears a baby's cry...their baby's cry.

Allison lets her forehead fall against Lucifer's, a tear escaping her eye, "You have a daughter. Her name is Danielle. Come back to me, please."

When she lifts her head, her baby is surrounded by light, and all the demons are gone - all of them. She doesn't know how, or why, but all that's left is Morgan, Merlin and her, cradling Lucifer's lifeless body.

She looks up at the sky, the dark clouds dissipating and she sees winged forms descending.

It's not until they land that she recognizes who they are.

Michael is looking down on her and Gabriel has his back turned, standing between her and Morgan.

When he turns, she sees him holding her daughter. _Their_ daughter.

_No._

She forces herself to stand, stumbling for a moment, and rushes at Michael, smashing her hands against his chest, "You won't take her! You can't have her!"

Michael lets her hit him - her strength barely rivaling his, no longer under Merlin's spell - and it's not until she stops, sobbing into his chest, that he holds her head against him, pressing his lips against her hair, "Allison. We're not here to steal the child." She looks up at him, her eyes reddened by the tears, "We're here to bless her, for she will restore our faith in humanity, and she will lead the new age; a light of hope in the midst of all this loss."

"And we have also come to greet a brother we once thought lost," Gabriel interrupts as he cradles the baby, he looks past her, directing her attention elsewhere.

When she turns, Nimue has her hands over Lucifer's body, and she sees some kind of light leave her body, entering his.

When he coughs, she laughs tearfully. Allison laughs, and she looks back at Michael, who is also smiling.

He cups her face, keeping her there, "Go to him. Start a new life. You've earned it."

"And don't forget," Gabriel touches a finger to his lips, and smiles, "We'll be watching." He looks down on Danielle, placing the same finger to her lips, smiling, and whispering something she can't quite hear, but the baby coos, and he hands her over to Allison, who takes her without another thought.

When she turns, Lucifer is being helped to stand by Merlin, who nods at the angels behind them before he, and the other sorcerers, walk to her, to their baby, and his eyes look on the miracle they created: her eyes are closed, but she's smiling, and he echoes her smile, meeting eyes with Allison, who's happier than she's ever been.

He pulls her to him, kissing her forehead, and holding them.

In all this time, all the battles they've faced and endings they've met...they've never felt more alive.

* * *

**Author's Afterword:** It's a miracle. No, really, I didn't kill them. I was going to, at first. Lou, at least, but the very sorcerers I thought insane to integrate into the story are what saved them. I know, what are the odds? Crazy! But still. Gosh, this chapter was hard to write (fighting scenes? Not my forte) and envisioning that moment when Lou became an arch again, freaked me out a bit, quite a bit, because I _felt_ it (when I get too into a story, it's like I start seeing things, in reality. It makes someone like Stephen King very scary to read!) And Nimue proved, well, that even she is as weak as Allison (maybe they could have a little chat, lots to talk about, I bet!) And hang on...there's still an epilogue :-) but I hope this chapter was an enjoyable conclusion to a very long journey and, yes, I know I've basically scratched off the Second Coming, but I only wrote about a battle. One battle, caused by the Reaping. I didn't write anything on a false prophet. And, in truth, they haven't saved it...but I won't say more, lest I ruin the epilogue. Let's just say, I may or may not write a sequel (that depends entirely on my muse, my mood and whether I find a job soon), but if I were to write one, it would no doubt revolve around this attempt at a new age (knowing humanity, show of hands that think that'll be a tough sell?), the false prophet (which, after everything that's happened, would be so easy for anyone to become fanatic and obsessed) and the Second Coming, but I confess that may be unlikely...I love the story behind the franchise, but writing** that** would me diving into too much religion, even for me ;-)


	16. Epilogue

**Stating the Obvious:** The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).

**Disclaimer:** I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.

**Author's Note:** I remember writing this epilogue for the first time, then going to bed, triumphant, only to stay away for almost an hour (happens a lot) thinking, "Oh, no, I need to rewrite that...big time," and so I did and, I think, the end result, is far better than what it originally was. I realize it's rather lengthy for an epilogue (and probably not an epilogue at all, by definition), but I felt the need to give you all an idea of where things stood, after the battle, for all parties involved (well, most of them, at least). Enjoy :-)

* * *

**Epilogue **

* * *

_How can blood be our salvation  
And justify the pain that we have caused throughout the times  
Will I learn what's truly sacred?  
Will I redeem my soul, will truth set me free?_

**"****The Truth beneath the Rose****" Within Temptation  
**

* * *

"And that, my friends, is what brought you all here," the old man still wears the same dark robe, his beard a little longer than it was a year ago, white as snow.

He stands in the very front of the room, a room once known as the United Nations General Assembly Hall, now occupied by people from all around the world - people chosen by groups, those who survived the company of demons, living in districts and trying to rebuild what once was - and yet, the amount of people still doesn't fill the room, not at its full capacity of 1,800.

"You expect us to believe this? That the devil himself fell in love with a woman, a half-angel, and their child granted us God's mercy? Is this some kind of sick joke?" The man leans forward, his accent clearly not American, or English; he seems young, but his face tells of an older age - of having lived too much, too soon, his eyes dark and weary.

The old man smiles, and the room jumps as a bird flies in through the open door behind them, its flapping wings echoing in the room as it perches itself on the old man's arm, which he had lifted in order to receive the bird. It's a raven, and it caws, its eyes observing the room around it. Merlin hadn't closed the door, or any door, in the building, finding no need for closed doors or secrecy, knowing full well the building's windows were broken - secrecy is not something that can be easily gained in these times.

"You once believed in a man, a carpenter, one who died for your sins, who accepted the accusation of leading a rebel faction against the government of man so that he could die for your sins. Do you truly find it difficult, signore Devicci, to believe in a battle between angels, between demons? A battle that only ended thanks to the product of the love between two creatures belonging to both worlds. And tell me, can any of you find anything purer, and greater, than the love that creates a child?"

"You have to understand, Merlin-sama, for us to believe this, it is...difficult." An older man, older perhaps than anyone in this room, speaks next, his eyes barely opened under his bushy eyebrows.

Merlin nods, letting his finger trace a line on the bird's back and whispering something in its ear before moving his hand towards the middle of the hall, towards the door, allowing the bird to fly away. "I understand this more than anyone, Haku-sama. Yet, here we are, survivors and leaders of the world's districts, rebuilding what demons once tore down, demons some of you faced and survived, all of you becoming slaves in a nightmare we all experienced. The demons have gone and we are the casualties of that war, myself included, a character known from myth, considered to be unreliable history from a Welsh cleric," he smiles, "I am flesh and bone, and by transporting you here, I have proved the roots of my identity. I am Merlin, the Wizard, and you are here, not just to hear this story, but to tell it to your children. They need to understand..." He looks down, pausing a moment, his age - no, his entire existence - finally catching up. He looks up, looking around the room, making eye contact with all of them, "With understanding comes acceptance, comes learning, comes the chance of a new age."

"Tell your children that Satan, Lucifer, is nothing but a name, a title, a punishment once given, now forgiven. There is no evil to hurt them, no more demons to haunt their nights, no more wars or battles. There is nothing that can condemn or take away their right to live, to fight, to love, for as long as they remain kind and good. There will be no division of class, of politics," this causes a stir, each person glancing at the other, "everyone has a right to a home, everyone will have a job to do, a duty, a responsibility, and none above the other. But they must prove deserving of this second chance and not sully it as their forefathers did before them. It is time humanity learn to live in peace, to not give famine another chance to plague our society, for in the end, if there is one lesson I wish you to understand...Lucifer...Allison...the characters of this war, they were just the pawns, the chess pieces, if you will, and god the ultimate player, but you, my friends, humanity as a whole...you were the cause of the disease. Choose a better life, for the children you've yet to have."

"And if we don't live by your rules?" A man in a dark hat speaks, a toothpick in his mouth, arms crossed, leans back, challenging. "If we make our own rules, do what we will, what then?"

Merlin smiles, his eyes shining, startling one of the women, but then it returns back to its wondrous azure quality. "Well, then, you will be responsible for your own demise. You always have been. And may whatever deity you believe in have mercy on your ungrateful souls, for these rules are not my creation, as I am sure I need not create a rule indicating for you to be kind in order for you to realize the importance of being kind...is that not what allowed you to survive for so long? Helping each other to survive, that is being kind, even when the circumstances gave very little room for such things." There is a sudden silence, no one dare respond or challenge that statement, at this point. They know he knows what helped them survive, as they had all met him and gotten to know Merlin, not just through his stories, but his actions. He healed many, helped them bury their dead and he listened to _their_ stories, how the demons would prey upon them and the oldest people, the bravest, would often volunteer to take the place of the young - it was their sacrifice that had kept them alive, their kindness. Merlin sighs, "There will be sorceress assigned to each of your districts...for your protection, of course, and for our abilities to heal and assist in you in rebuilding your homes. You are more than welcome to reject our assistance," Merlin glances at the two, more traditional sort, that had already refused such an offer. "But I will be watching, if only to be aware of any dangers that you may bring upon yourselves. I will not intervene, unless asked, you may do as you will and be responsible for that which you sow. And one more thing, before we arrange for your return to your respective homes...Lucifer may no longer be the evil he once was, but know, where once was evil, there will always be another to take his place."

"But you said, the baby, she killed them all, didn't she? There aren't any more demons, you said," a younger woman, possibly in her twenties, chosen from one of the smaller districts, speaks up, her doe eyes soliciting a smile from the wizard.

"Did I? I said to tell your children this, the innocent, the hope for mankind, but you, my friends, you are not children, and you are far from innocent. But to ease your concern, Miss Pond, no, there are no more demons here on earth...but they were not killed. They were banished. There is a difference. And they will remain where they are for as long as they are not called upon, by words or by your actions, so take care, for evil exists for as long as we give it a name...for as long as we give it a cause...for as long as we echo its existence within our own."

With a wave of his hand, his eyes glowing, each person disappears, one by one, until none remain.

From the shadows, a woman with a dark green cloak emerges, throwing her hood back, her black locks cascading over her shoulders, "Do you think we will succeed, finally, in creating a peaceful era?"

He chuckles, before descending from the high chair, "Who knows, Morgan. This period of humanity is full of such wonder, such fear, such hate...I hope they choose to not repeat the history of their forefathers, of our forefathers. I can only hope they make better choices."

"Perhaps we should not help them." She remembers a time when they attempted to create a peaceful era, with Excalibur, with Avalon, with Camelot...all they accomplished was the death of that era, to where it became only a fantasy, a tragic myth. "They should make their own mistakes, Merlin, even if they should lead to their own demise," Morgan whispers, having watched while in the shadows, unseen, and having very low opinion of this generation.

"We would not have been allowed to stay, to use our full potential, to gain abilities beyond our knowledge, if we were not meant to watch over the flock of the Gods. Though I am not helping **them**, Morgan; I am helping the earth, and the children, for I believe they are the meek that shall inherit it." He has used his time wisely, reading as many works as he can find in this world. "They will decide, in the end, if this world is worth saving." When he is finally at her side, he places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, and she smiles, her demeanor softening somewhat.

"Forgive me, Merlin...we have seen so much in one year...it is hard to believe that there is still hope."

Merlin clicks his tongue, looking up at the ceiling, a small testament to what humanity is capable of, "There is always hope, for as long as there is life."

Now it's her turn to shake her head, chuckling, "First, it was faith, and now, it is hope. We truly are a marvelous species depending solely on that which we cannot see."

"Indeed...now, have you heard from her?" He meets her eyes, and she looks down, shaking her head with a frown. "We will. Someday."

"I don't believe her dead, Merlin. Although, before the battle, when she learned of your involvement...she reached out to me. She told me of her plan. I knew what she intended to do and it should have killed her. Channeling that much power should have killed her and yet..."

"It didn't," he reassures her, "Nimue is alive and she is not alone."

"Do you think...do you think he captured her?"

"Ha!" The man's laugh echoes in the room, and he holds a hand to his chest, beaming, "Nimue has never been known as anyone's captive. If she is with him, she is willing, and perhaps that means her task will be greater than ours."

Morgan's eyes widen in realization, "Indeed. Let us go. There is still much to do."

Both of them hold hands before disappearing as well, the room silent, no one to negotiate or conduct treaties of any kind.

That world is now gone.

* * *

Most ravens travel in flocks, or with a mated pair, but that day, a solitary raven flew circles around a particular house, on a hilltop, surrounded by trees, it's windows intact, therefore allowing no easy access, as it continued to fly around the two-story house.

A man walks up the stone steps leading to the first level of the house, and the winged creature flies down to greet him, landing safely on his shoulder. The man stops, listening for a moment at the caws from the bird, a language only he can discern.

Lucifer smiles, whispering words to the bird who had traveled so far, letting it fly away before jogging up the rest of the steps.

He takes his keys out of his pant pockets, unlocking the front door, seeing the living room empty, the chimney still smoking from its recent use. He walks through the dining room next, the kitchen, and ignores the guest room and study, knowing he'll find them both somewhere else.

At the upper level, two bedrooms, a bathroom and another study wait for him, but he chooses the one where he can hear giggling and the laughter of a woman - the woman he claimed as _his_ wife.

He stands under the doorway, leaning his side on the frame as he sees Allison wearing her nightgown, tickling Danielle who is wearing the most adorable sunflower dress - not that he'd consider _anything_ adorable, really, but when it comes to her...well, he has no choice.

Allison is trying to help her walk on their bed, but Danielle simply holds on to her fingers and gets ready to sit again, her knees bent, making him smile as she babbles incoherently. Allison notices him finally and beams, pulling the baby to her, "Look, Dani, it's daddy!" And the baby babbles again, though he catches the "dada" in the midst of a foreign language even he doesn't understand at times.

He moves towards them, kicking off his shoes, as he lands on the bed and lies next to her, leaning close enough to Allison for a kiss, before setting his eyes on Danielle.

He had been happy with the chosen name - a beautiful name, even if it came with a memory of something lost, it also reminded them of what brought them together.

"Hello, Danielle. Shall we try to conquer any more of that horrible mushed food mum makes you eat?" Being that there are very few to operate the factories responsible for the creation of baby food, Allison had to improvise, using fruits and vegetables from her garden and making it easy to digest for a growing toddler, though now that she has outgrown some of that mush, Allison allows some liberties.

"Oh, shut up," Allison softly slaps his ribs and watches as he pulls the baby into his arms and then lifts her into the air, evoking laughter from the child. Her hair had grown out enough to cover her head, a beautiful shade of brown, like her mother, and her eyes had acquired a different color, a grey-like blue, depending on what color dress she wears - that she got from him. Her skin is fair, her smile is pure light, and she is healthy, alive, and completely theirs.

They both lie next to each other and Danielle - Danielle_ flies_ \- in the arms of those who love her most, those who needed saving, those she saved most of all.

Lucifer lets the baby lie on his chest, his hand on her back, and he kisses the top of her head before turning his head to gaze at his wife, her smile.

They hold hands, and Allison takes her free hand to touch the small bump on her stomach - after months of being afraid of the prospect of another child, she had given in, accepted this chance at life, this opportunity of peace...where no one could tear them apart.

This would be their little piece of heaven.

That night, when Danielle is asleep, Allison brushes her hair in the bathroom and Lucifer - no, _John_, to any mortals they come across - looks out the window he feels...like very much the wolf he's always been.

He can see something lurking in the shadows - possibly one of Merlin's apprentices, watching them, _guarding_ them, as if they needed it - but he won't tell Allison that.

He feels her arms before he feels her coming - she's getting very good at sneaking, or he's getting far too comfortable in this safety net they've created - and he lets her arms embrace him from behind, feels her cheek against his back as he rubs her arms, gazing into the darkness.

"Can we stay like this forever?"

He smiles, "I'm afraid not. One day, she'll start thinking for herself, she'll want an education and, eventually, discover her father was once the-" he laughs when he feels a jab in his ribs and he pulls her to the front, to him, where he can see her amused glare - how she can combine the two, he'll never know.

"I mean it, Lucifer," and his smile widens when he hears his name - _his_ name, though, they had agreed, he would remain John to anyone they crossed paths with...including their children. After the battle, Merlin made it clear to them he would spread the word of what had happened - in order to rebuild society, to give people hope in the faith that had abandoned them, the story must be told. And so, Allison would have to use a fake name around people - now that the world doesn't really use passports, it's easier to do - and she had chosen Laura, in memory of someone she lost, so that she'd never forget. The only name Lucifer had demanded Merlin keep out of his _stories_ was their daughter's. For her safety, and for their attempt at a normal life, Merlin would allow them this, and he did. Allison sighs, content, "It's been a year since...since we won."

"If you call that a win," he quirks his brow - they had lived, yes, but he didn't trust it then, he doesn't trust it now, in spite of the excellent turn of events: Lilith gone, his comrades gone, the sorcerers remained to assist them in finding a home and rebuilding what was left of mankind and the earth. But there was still His will, one very few could run away from, and he doesn't trust that He's done with them, with any of it.

He cups her face, "Allison, your mental state has been compromised long ago, but if you continue to question the present with concerns of the future, I fear you will lose whatever sanity you might have left."

She wrinkles her nose at him and buries her face in his chest, "Fine, I guess you have a point."

"I usually do," he smiles, "but I can tell you this. We are safe here. No one can harm you, or Danielle. Here, we are a family, and out there, I am a dashing professor trying to rebuild the education of the brainless sheep and you the doting housewife who's secretly trying to find a magical babysitter so she can track down literary works to restore the city library."

"So," she bites her lip, "You found out about that?"

"You're not difficult to read, Allison," he kisses the top of her head, "I don't disapprove. I simply ask that you wait for me before you select someone, I'd like to make an assessment of them personally."

"Look at us, being domestic, picking out babysitters together," she looks up, and she looks positively radiant - pregnant and glowing.

"Yes, a babysitter with supernatural abilities and parents with supernatural skills, and lets not forget about the potential of our children."

She groans, as she had not been looking forward to the idea of her children inheriting her skills, his skills or her mental state. Lucifer had already told her, her Schizophrenia would not be an issue, because it was never real - Simon had not been a figment of her imagination, and therefore, her mental state had simply been a veil to hide her true nature.

"Come," he brings the back of her hand to his lips, "to bed," before looking out the window one last time. The shadow has gone for now, at least.

He knows Allison's desire for peace is a dream - a beautiful dream - but he won't be the one to tell her what will or will not be, not now, not when they can just enjoy this for as long as they can.

She is the mother of his child, soon to be children, and he...he is an archangel, and while he had questioned Michael and Gabriel of its meaning - did it mean He had forgiven him, finally? Would he be welcome in heaven? Could he have both heaven and Allison?

Michael hadn't answer, simply smiled and said, "Live your life, brother, and when it's time, when you're ready, you'll discover the truth for yourself. For now, have faith, it is all He has ever wished from us."

At least that meant, if he played his cards right, for once, he'd no longer be known as the damned...and his family...they would not carry the burden of his choices.

That would always mean more to him than peace.

* * *

Gabriel whistles as he walks through the dark desert, the memories of a battle echoing in his wake, and there's a dark figure with his back turned, hands behind his back, waiting.

Gabriel smiles, "Azazel, how is hell these days?"

Azazel smiles, looking up at the dark sky, clear of clouds, but he remembers the storm that waged there...the storm that once was.

"It's good. A little boring without Lucifer, but it's good, we have lots of new recruits to build up morale; it'll keep us busy for a bit," the demon turns to gaze at Gabriel, noticing the man's gaze at the sky, probably remembering the same thing he does - from another perspective, of course.

"And Nimue?"

Azazel looks away, not partial to the question, "She is well, where she belongs, by my side."

"By choice, I hear," Gabriel sounds impressed, almost.

"She's always been quite bold, even for her kind," Azazel looks down, chuckling, and glances at the arch.

Gabriel looks at him, finally, smiling, "Yeah, she is. I heard you made a room just for Lilith."

Azazel smirks, "Yeah...that one's fun, Beelzebub helped design it, so the depravity is endless."

"I also heard you made a room for Procel, too...did Beelzebub design that one, too?"

Azazel's smile widens, "No, that was me, and you can imagine my disappointment when I couldn't sense **or** find her...but I'm sure you already heard that, too, didn't you?"

Gabriel shrugs, still smiling, hands behind his back, "Well, lets just say, Lilith should've chosen her advisers more carefully, as I'm sure you know from experience. Speaking of which, how is Nimue adjusting to the change in scenery?"

That makes Azazel quirk a brow, as he understands more than Gabriel is willing to say - Procel and Nimue had more in common than Gabriel is willing to admit, that much he knows, but Gabriel's not going to shed any more light on the matter. He always did like to toy with humans and demons alike. "She's adjusting just fine, but you didn't meet me here to talk about hell and its accommodations, unless you're planning on visiting?"

"No," Gabriel sighs, pretending to be slightly disappointed, "I'm just here to pass along a message." Off Azazel's quirked brow, "Call it...common courtesy, if you will. Stay away from them."

Azazel looks down, smiling, "You're watching them, too, aren't you?"

"The nephalim that turned the tides of a war over hell? The fallen who rose from the ashes? The child whose purity had every demon scurrying into whatever hole they came from?" Gabriel feigns ignorance, which is quite the feat, considering, "Now, why would we need to watch over them?"

Azazel shakes his head, laughing, "It's not over, is it?"

"It is," Gabriel shrugs, "For now. God cleansed the world of sin with a flood once. This time he did so with the fire from the very pits of the hell He created for him. The next...well, that'll depend entirely on the monkeys. But it won't be years...decades...centuries, maybe, until that happens. We will just have to wait and see."

"You and I both know..." Azazel's face is solemn, his brows furrowed, "It doesn't matter how long it takes, they're tied to this as much as we are; we will meet again."

"Possibly, and their children, and their children's children, they will have responsibilities to bear. And I'll be there to whisper in their ear," he leans closer, his voice lowering in a warning, "You won't win."

"We'll see, friend," Azazel whispers back, walking backwards, hands behind his back, "Don't forget. I'm not going anywhere." When he disappears, crows fly from whence he once stood, and Gabriel, he smiles, because he knows, he's not going anywhere, either.

Well, maybe he is going somewhere: breakfast, with an ex-angel who owes him.

Gabriel smiles, dancing as he once had, when he himself had been human and _old_, before he himself disappears.

* * *

**Author's Afterword: **First, I hate keyboards. I hate thinking I know what I'm typing and somehow, either having refreshed the page or accidentally hit the back button through my keys (I had proofread this, and then lost the progress of that proofread...sigh) but, there. All done. Finally. I know, it's a bit odd, my approach, but with my idealism comes my firm belief in second chances...if we've had these many chances to prove ourselves to be a race worth of life, then what's one more, in spite of all the darkness? I had thought about giving Lou and Allison a bit of a love scene, but there is something so pure about them now, in this moment, that I didn't think...I didn't feel it would fit, so I hope none of you mind that. And yes, Azazel is now stepping into Lucifer's shoes, and with a sorceress by his side, hmm, interesting indeed! I hope you all enjoyed it, all of it, including my silly attempt at humor at the end and if none of you have seen Christopher Walken dancing in Fatboy Slim's video of Weapon of Choice, please, I beg you right now, watch it, if you can. **Watch it**, let it be my last gift to you, for now :-)

Again, thank you for your continued attention, kind words and for sharing your time with me. I won't lie and say there's absolutely no chance for a sequel (actually, my mind has some ideas, and part of it has some potential), but I'm currently unemployed (attempting to find a job) and cultivating the idea of actually writing my own original work (ah, the dreams of being published), but I must say, I owe FanFiction, and reviews, for the confidence, the improvement and the hope that has grown from the very moment I started writing...so I can't really say I won't be back. Until then, good night and, again, thank you.


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